Ending Cities
by Musing Joplin
Summary: AU FFX complete with hoverboarding, terrorists, & gov't turmoil. What if Spira was never plagued with Sin? What if the Al Bheds weren't technologically blind while Bevelle became a Romanesque presence during the thousand years of "relative" peace. It starts with Yu Yevon saving his island city by writing a fairy tale book, a book where Zanarkand became nothing more than a fiction.
1. Prologue: Whistling Fate

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, the Final Fantasy X title and its copyrights. This hasn't been written for any profitable means nor have I or will I received any. Copyright infringement not intended.

Okay, I'll be honest, I liked the idea of hoverboards since the movie Treasure Planet and Eureka Seven. The mechanical aspect of one and the elegance/aesthetic of the other respectively. Its addition is blatant fan-appreciation to the FFX world. This chapter is the skippable prologue of a very long story. Next chapter, there will be more official author notes and the first real start of "Ending Cities" as well as a sneak peek of the Macalania Spring.

Enjoy. :D

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**Ending Cities**

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Thousands of feet in the night sky, was Tidus cutting the purple storm clouds over Zanarkand's seaside. Nineteen and a former Olympian, he never forgot to be thankful of the perks of a being household name - in two words - sponsor gifts. His favorite of all was no contest, a prototype hover board ready to hit the market next winter and the gear to go with it.

Suited in heavy metal duty boots that planted him without a single clasp, goggle specs that wrapped around like a blindfold, skin tight mechanic gloves, and windbreaker pants. Every bit of it was new beyond a scratch. Yet despite of the clearly new outerwear, he continued to wear his retired hood shirt, and worst of all the "Captain" armguard of his former blitz team.

The goggles needed work. Fog, no matter how tightly sealed, seeped in every session. He was starting to think it wasn't the frigid wind's fault after all.

Slowing to a peaceful sail, he simply stood atop his hover with an occasional carve as the wind warred with his shirt. Tidus stripped off the goggles from his face and threw cast it out into the sea below and the device fell for nearly a minute before finally hitting the water. Not keen of staying still for long, he stomped on the accelerator and jet off further away from Zanarkand's beaches, wearing an indelible smile.

Five instant blows of air, "Whew, here we go...," Tidus inhaled deeply one last time with a frightening growing arch of his back.

His board, a state-of-the-art Lunar, whirred with the whispers of gears.

Tidus reeled back like a falling angel, plummeting with his arms held outward in a cross, going head first to the earth at what seemed to be an inconsequential fall. His body wound like a top at a disillusioned pace that made him believe it'd take eternity to hit bottom. Knocking his knees to together a sway of the hips, he began spinning. Faster then faster, he rocked in his arms fast against him and the speed of twisting amplified beyond breathing.

He dipped his head back to feel his hair comb over his scalp instead of his forehead, and let the wind press against him more freely. A flip induced then, then three more. The spins and flips eventually became indistinguishable, melding them into one.

The lunar's touch lights glowed under his feet even as still as they were in midst of the twists. Every muscle below his hips were rock stiff, and only tightened on his two thousand foot plummet. His shirt flapped wildly and his skin pimpled from the biting wind. Queer though, his heart was every bit comfortable. Spirit was in a full focus as he continued his descent to a surely certain death fall. The ocean was getting closer and closer, and his knees worked apart, feet spread, and his elbows worked against the wind to wing out. The flips became controlled with decisive bends of his knees, and arm lengths fledgling completely out. A final back flip, and he was looking straight at the water close enough enough to race his heart. Tipping the front of the Lunar away from the ninety degree angle he last found himself in, he then he wailed his calcaneal on the accelerator, with he himself wailing like a banshee. The night's disturbed current blew behind him in a fiery wave of sparkling purple trapar waves parallel to the sea.

Busting a Japan Air that scaled him higher like a war kite in the wind, he never felt so accomplished.

Smirking like the devil himself, Tidus pulled out of the trick with a vicious cutback and realigned the board inferior to his shins.

"WOW," a disturbingly hoarse voice came out. The_ intense heat_ from his heart and blood and the _freezing_ and _ocean misted_ skin welded so hideously with each other in his being. Tidus straightened himself, and laughed outright. It started slow, and built and built until he was near cackling. It was probably a better feeling than being in love.

He surfed leisurely, body at last relaxed.

Every move he performed was nameless.

Every trick unseen.

His hover board had a single serial number.

Every air session done alone.

The sport was so brand new, trick names like Japan Air and corkscrews have yet been made lingo. The last time he attempted the same trick, he failed to time the boost and the angle had been so off he catapulted straight off. Then belly-flopped into the ocean at such a height he lost consciousness upon impact. Horrible sounding yes, but inconsequential nonetheless. When he woke up, he found himself washed up on shore, Lunar several feet ahead of him. Regaling the tale to Auron, he simply replied with a simple "compliment" to his brain's ability to survive without oxygen for hours on end. As if.

Recalling the memory of Auron's hidden chuckle led to a gradual deflation in his riding. The correctional drifts lost most its "oompf" in aftermath of the thought.

It took two years of professional blitz to get the famous Tidus to retire, who signed at an unprecedented age of fifteen. Two years of fans cheering him whenever he left his home the night of a game, experts proclaiming him to be the prodigal son to Jecht's holiness, and of people adoring him for being able to kick a blitz ball into the net every game. It was straight out of a child's dream, and Tidus loved every minute of it. And that was the problem during the first year.

In all God honesty, his loving being famous became the bane of it all. He was too much like Jecht for comfort. It was a trait of his that he began to loathe, which in his mind, was the only thing he and Jecht shared. Still, he sought to prove himself as an individual. On the shelves of his modest boat home lay the Golden Boot, and two MVP commemorative plaques of the professionals. Before those, amateur leagues awards. His favorites remained to be the framed photos, all autographed by individual, of every team he's ever been on. All earned before an age his father had even qualified for a team.

However, the awards did nothing to stop Tidus from retiring in the prime of his career and the time of his life. Everyone pretended to know why. A few made headlines, which irritated Auron to no end, not that he shared his opinion. It either troubled Auron to read stories he'd known to be false or of how Tidus was considered news at all.

Some had evidence that he had a fiance or girlfriend he agreed to spend time with, or the pressure of being Jecht's son got to him. There were even ones that said he was afraid of choking when it mattered so he got out when the name was still worth something. The truth was actually so much more pitiful than saving his name. He had a dream the night before a final at the end of his seventeenth year.

A month later after a so-called revelation he had due to the dream, he arranged an announcement during player pool selections, and proclaimed he needed a season off for a fictional knee-injury. Two years now, and his name had never reentered the pool list. People caught onto his lie when they learned of his little hobby, but by that time, he wasn't the center of attention any more.

He skid across the clouds, trying his best to move his body as aerodynamically as he could.

Tidus listed off into a drone routine that wouldn't impress children.

A strong breeze current painfully brought some sensations to light. Dried salt from the breeze gathered and stuck into his dirty blond hair.

He sighed. Even just drifting and monkeying around in the sky began to tire his numbed muscles. His once warm skin was cold to touch, even through his gloves.

Tidus eased himself to stand up straight to coast back home. The blue moon was seemingly within hand's reach.

By then, any rush of excitement or happiness had evaporated. Reality came crashing down to his parade upon remembering how far a ride home actually was. A long ride of silence was not the thing Tidus was looking forward to at all.

His face clued in on a sort of melancholy that stiffened his brow. It was times like these, Tidus wondered if he should've never quit the Abes. Even Auron, as un-fatherly as a parent-guardian could be, asked one night during a huge tournament - the first since quitting. The man never committed in showing genuine interest but Tidus knew better. Auron asking at all, no matter how apathetic sounding, was him showing interest. Tidus smirked to him and told him clear as day, "I don't know."

Despite the secrets Tidus guarded for Auron and vice versa, nothing could've made Tidus comfortable in sharing such an unjustifiable reason. How could a dream after all, stir any desire for change?

It took _years_ after the question for Tidus to recognize it. He should have credited Auron for the initial idea of quitting.

His dream after all, involved Auron's stories.

_**WHISTLEE!-**_

He broke of his reverie when a heard a piercing sound over the waves, in the middle of nowhere. Completely disregarding it, he shook his head in effort as if he was trying to remove water from them. His ears must've popped.

**_WHISTLE!_**

The second time however, he heard it as loud as day, or so he thought. It was the sound of a person whistling with all their might to be heard, a wolf whistle no less. Wait, he froze, a whistle?

Tidus quickly contorted his features. A whistle heard out here? He was literally miles away from any land, and hundreds feet from the ocean.

The whistle sounded from behind.

He peered over his shoulder, his hair often times blown inconveniently into his eyes as his board continued its predetermined path home. All there was behind him was the great mountain far south. He whipped his hover board curtly to a definite stop in the same fashion as a snowboarder. Outside of the hum of his machina, all there was to be heard was silence. He waited for more, in case someone desperately needed his help.

All he was met with was a lonely sky, an abandoned ocean, and the mountain far ahead in the horizen, Mt. Gagazet.

He hovered over the sea curiously as he stared at the mountain, the mountain that separated Zanarkand and Spira for eternity. Tidus only knew of her name because of Auron.

Tidus was hesitant to move as he watched on thoughtfully. He had heard it, didn't he? His head tilted to one side.

Not willing to leave yet, he did the only thing he could think of: he whistled back - dwarfing the others that preceded it.

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Spira and Zanarkand were two entities that regarded each other as nonexistent.

A thousand years ago, there was a Machina War in which brought a horrible being called Sin into the world. Sin was the bringer of death who brought countless slaughter in its wake. In order to stop the fighting between Zanarkand and Spira, the monstrous, impenetrable mountain Gagazet was erected across the whole northern hemisphere, breaking off Zanarkand away from the rest of the rest of the world, and the entity known as Sin disappeared.

But who erected the Gagazet from the earth and what happened to Sin was uncertain, and became a forgotten mystery.

The two worlds and its people were to never meet again.

After a thousand years, Zanarkand had completely forgotten the existence of Spira while Spira grew to think of Zanarkand as a myth, or a fairy tale.

.

The deafening sound of the explosion erupted in the air in the stadium.

The spontaneous lights imploded into a perfect sphere of water what was to be the blitzball arena and the crowd was going wild.

Uninterested in the game but well within earshot to hear the fans, Auron stared out to the ocean dutifully at the peak of a skyscraper. It was barely visible but if he squinted, Auron could see the treacherous mountain that was seamed among the sea. Mt. Gagazet was like a serpent that wrapped all around the northern region world. Auron thinned his lips, thanking the late Jecht for keeping it a secret from the rest of Zanarkand, among other things.

Having kept his promise to keep an eye on Tidus until he grew up, he had little reason to stay anymore.

.

It was time for Auron to return home.

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	2. Ch 1 Divided

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, the Final Fantasy X title and its copyrights. This hasn't been written for any profitable means nor have I or will I received any.

**Author Notes**: Welcome to Ending Cities people who still read the FFX archive. This is my attempt on a serious AU-ish adventure, which is looking to be around 200 or 300k words. Right off the bat, there are **no** Original Characters (OCs), Sin _doesn't_ exist (yet), and this not a novelization of the game with liberal tweaks. Nope. I'm afraid its pretty much all new crap you never read before. If you decided to skip the prologue, it introduces Tidus' hoverboard, the mysterious whistle that he disregarded as the wind, and the history of this particular world as written in this fiction.

You will never read a scene that was precisely like the game at any point, but ironically enough, the one scene that's the most familiar to the original is the very first segment in this chapter, the Spring Kiss.

That's all, and I hope you enjoy. ^^

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**Chapter 1- Divided**

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Yuna: "I thought for a very long time that I could live with my decisions. I thought I could follow my path without ever hesitating."

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Tidus twisted his eyebrows sadly. In the short time of her getting to know her, he'd never thought she'd ever trust him enough to cry in front of him. Their friends were captured, and Auron was facing execution. He was to be beheaded in the morning but she still hadn't cried. It wasn't until he followed her into the spring after their escape, did he find her desperately stiffening her lip. The moment when he was alone with her, standing ankle-deep in the spring, she finally let the tears slip. He had gently placed his hands on her forearms to get her to look at him.

In truth, she was barely letting any tears fall and Yuna was doing her best to avoid his eyes. The Fayth promised Tidus that he could go home and Tidus had given her a beautiful speech that she could go with him.

Yuna looked to the necklace lying against his chest. Even in the midst of tears, she was able to look onto it fondly until realizing an inescapable truth.

He didn't belong in Spira, did he?

She looked so unsure as she searched for her answer in the insignia that hung around his neck. Her eyes were glossed in a light sheen of tears, and Macalania continued to churn the sounds of crystal bells.

"Yuna," he soothed.

In fear, she caught his eyes and she dreadfully wished he wasn't seeing her crying. However, the wish was long forgotten at the sight of him, the face of the man who she grew love. The uncertainty that had overcome his entire being hardly veiled the amorous gaze. His lips weren't pressed together, and his new demeanor was incredibly calming but alarming at the same time. His hand came to her cheek and jaw line. She felt a heaviness in her chest. Her heartbeat was slowing.

"I…" she whispered too breathlessly for him to hear.

When he started moving close, all she could focus on were his lips. Just a two more inches and they'll connect. She could avoid the kiss by turning her head away if she wanted to.

He didn't belong here.

Yuna looked to his already closed eyes then with a swelled heart darted her attention back to his lips. The warmth of his hand was still accompanying her cheek and his other just met her waist. His body was now a finger's length away and her head was unconsciously tilting into his hand, preparing for contact. She surged forward to his lips with her own and closed the last half-an-inch, unable to wait a moment longer.

And she didn't belong with him.

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"I hesitated... and so did he."

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**Zanarkand- 10 months earlier**

It was nearly midnight, December 31. The rainy season was almost over, but by God, Tidus hoped it would rain again tomorrow.

There was nothing like a morning run after a rain shower. Tidus ruffled his hair, which was still wet from his earlier hover board excursion during an extremely light drizzle two hours ago.

Tidus Albright was nineteen, and a former Abes' star.

He was the youngest man to ever enter the professional leagues at age sixteen, and the fastest to quit after playing just two short years. It was the anniversary of the day he left the Abes.

He stepped into a shallow puddle carelessly and his heavy pair of pants was splattered in raindrops, but with each step the drops slid off like they would to a car window. The fabric didn't recognize the water whatsoever. Tidus jammed his hands deep into his pockets as his right pant leg scraped against the asphalt. Dillydallying much to Auron's chagrin.

Auron was already drifting far ahead of him.

There was absolutely no one else on the highway bridge and for good reason. It was New Years Eve. The loud screaming in the distance was a little too much to bear.

Everybody who was anybody would be at Central, partying till the count down and then some. He had to admit he was feeling a little guilty for missing the Silver Ball Drop. The Silver Ball was a Zanarkand New Year tradition for as long as he could remember.

Tidus bit the insides of his mouth, his cheekbones becoming more distinct in doing so. He gazed at the city, wondering if at that moment he'll see the first firework fly. This was the second year in the row he missed the party. Tidus smiled a bit to himself. It figured he'd miss it again. To think when he was sixteen, he never would've predicted he'd allow himself to miss parties so willingly.

Auron casually looked over his shoulder, making sure Tidus hadn't fallen off the bridge. They acted as though they were total strangers who happened to be sharing the same sidewalk. No one would've guessed they knew each other given the large distance between them.

The minutes dragged on, and Auron briefly wondered what Jecht would be saying had he been here.

Auron inconspicuously sneak a peak at the skyline, completely unable to see even a speck of Mt. Gagazet.

A giggling child brought Auron out of his reverie. He didn't bother recognizing the presence of the scant few people as he and Tidus traveled further to the outskirts of town.

Tidus on the other hand did the exact opposite, sneaking glances of what he assumed was supposed to be a deserted walk back home.

Tidus passed a young couple, what looked to be like engaged twenty some year olds who had apparently ditched the News Years party for alone time. They huddled together and leaned against the railings under a streetlight. Then across the street, there was a woman and her little girl who were obviously only waiting for the fireworks show.

Tidus smiled at the child having accidentally catching eye contact. His smile was timid but bright greeting of sorts before awkwardly looking down the street, embarrassed for some reason. It must've been the way she stared at him before waving back.

The mother watched Tidus with a speck of confusion in her eyes. She raised her hand to her cheek, calculating an answer as though she were on Jeopardy. "Hmm…"

Unbeknown to Tidus, at that very moment he was walking nearby one of his father's tribute posters for the Jecht Tournament coming up the next few weeks. The advertisement was no larger than the size of his head, and damp from the previous rain.

The girl gasped, "Oh!" she clutched onto her mother's dress excitedly, "Mommy, mommy! Look, look! Don't you know who that is?"

Tidus immediately turned his attention across the street. The little girl acted as though he were an ice cream truck. His eyebrows lifted, anticipating the former glory of his fame. A genuine smile began playing on his lips.

"Yes, he does seem familiar, doesn't he?" the mother cooed her daughter.

"Look!" she grinned, getting ready to yawn from the late hour. She pointed at the poster.

"Oh yes! You're right!" Tidus was about ready to grin when she said something that nearly made his heart stop. "He's Jecht's son!"

Tidus froze halfway across the street, his back stiffened. Right then, he also managed to catch the teenaged couple murmuring Jecht's name like a spew of diseases after the overhearing the others. "Tgh!" the sound scuffed through his teeth as Tidus rolled eyes, damn near having to force his feet to shuffle on out of there.

Moodily, he caught up with Auron, bearing a grim expression. "Geez, for someone who's been dead for ten years you'd think he was still around," he muttered as they turned the corner. He then flung his black hood of his referee-like jersey over his head in order to hide his face. "I don't think I look a thing like him."

"You have his brow and chin," the red monk rubbed salt in the open wound.

"I do not!"

Auron side-glanced him.

Tidus sighed, looking over the side of the bridge. The dome shone brighter than all the billboards in Zanarkand put together. Tidus stopped walking altogether, unsure if the blitz sphere was a place of good memories or the start of bad karma.

Auron noticed. "Keep your feet up."

Tidus looked over his shoulder to Auron who was forced to stop walking altogether to let him catch up. "You so sure you want leave Zanarkand?"

"An hour ago you were thrilled," Auron said in a monotone.

Tidus' brow creased upward and didn't bat an eye, "Because I thought I was coming along! I didn't think you'd leave so soon either. You call yourself _my_ mentor?" Tidus asked.

"This isn't an adventure."

Tidus knew that from the start. He folded his arms behind his head and smirked at Auron's usual bitterness. Having spent years by Auron's side, it was safe for him to say that he built up an unnatural amount of tolerance for the jerk.

Zanarkand was an island of blissful ignorance, literally unaware of any other existence in the world. Zanarkand was a city that spanned over two hundred miles that needed nothing more. Surrounded by floating rivers and oceans, it had no other landscape than that of asphalt, skyscrapers, and water. Zanarkand was an utopia, a harmonious place with no corruption. It was a place where blitzball was a glorious sport and during the winter, night would last for weeks.

Zanarkand was a thriving island city with no apparent escape.

The only person in all of Zanarkand aware of that fact was the very man who had missed yet another New Year's Eve city tradition. Auron told Tidus the story only once when he was about thirteen. It was the first time Auron opened up to him back when Auron was the only person willing to assume a guardian after his mother and father's passing.

Auron said nothing more than that he was from somewhere beyond Zanarkand, who thought Zanarkand didn't exist. Tidus knew it was true having met Auron after Jecht saved him when he was only seven.

Tidus would be lying if he didn't wonder every other night what a new place would be like. It was basically a clean slate.

Tidus felt a rain drop on his nose, and raised his thumb came up to rub it off, twitched it off like it were bug. He waited expectantly for a shower as he perked his chin upward, but after a long few seconds of nothing, he gave up.

Auron inhaled deeply, who probably assumed the same thing.

"Are you really leaving?"

Auron pressed on down the highway as though the entire conversation was trivial. "I have promises to keep," he muttered.

"What's so bad about me tagging along?"

"Hmph," Auron hummed methodically.

Tidus followed after him and decided to change the question, "Then, tell me what Spira's like."

Auron took his sweet time answering. "…Imperfect."

"That's nice." Tidus puffed and mocked anger, "Aw man, I'm not a kid anymore, Auron. If you leave, you know as well as I do that you're not coming back."

"…maybe," Auron answered.

Tidus frowned, "What made you want to leave again?"

He had asked right as they entered the bridge. Auron didn't so much as twitch, jostle his head, or move his arms.

Halfway through the freeway bridge, Tidus was still expecting and waiting for an answer. In all the years the young man had known him, Tidus knew there was one single crucial detail about Auron to know when conversing with the hermit, patience was key. Unfortunately, patience was something Tidus had very little of until say a year ago.

"I'm... tired."

The mysterious context of that phrase baffled Tidus to no end. He was about to suggest Auron give up the drink, but remembered Auron hardly ever drunk. The jug at his waist almost seem purely for show, for the entire time Tidus had known him, he had never seen Auron lift the beach colored bottle to his lips.

Tidus was in a battle with his mind of what he could possibly say to convince Auron to let him join.

"Don't you have somewhere you have to be?" the monk prodded, not once turning his head to speak to him face-to-face.

"Huh?"

"New Years," he said coldly, "I've assumed you'd be with your friends, or attempt to date."

Tidus chuckled, "Dating?" one of his eyebrows nearly over flew his forehead. "You don't think they're more important things to think about?"

"What important things?"

"Like you getting home?" he stated obviously. "I think I can kill one New Year's celebration. Does Spira look anything like Zanarkand?"

"Not a thing like it."

Though, Tidus was right about before. Auron wasn't planning to ever come to Zanarkand ever again. Tonight was supposed to be the final night he'd ever converse with a Zanarkand native, but he was hardly making it easy.

Jecht's smug grin on the buildings far across the sea caught Auron's attention. The guilt was seeping in quickly.

The men were at a standstill when sudden bursting of fireworks caused both men to glance in the direction of Central. On reflex Tidus smiled, but as the seconds passed his face solemnly dropped.

Dozens upon dozens of fireworks streamed through the air, exploding fanatically against the sky. The crowd miles away could easily be heard cheering on the show. Fireworks lit all of Zanarkand and to no one's surprise. In fact, all the districts from A-East to D-West were competing for best in show. Auron decided leave the silent teen who watched the fireworks. Upon his movement however, Tidus tore his eyes away to the ex-warrior monk.

He frowned. Auron never answered anything right. He was as cold as he was twelve years ago when they first met.

"Do you want to know?"

Tidus shot him a skeptical look, surprised with the question.

Auron's back was like a brick wall, completely unmoving. Before taking another step, he looked over his shoulder, his chin hidden in his cowl. "...If you really want to know what Spira's like," Auron walked off, "you can see it for yourself."

"Hn?" Tidus questioned. He switched his over weight over to his left leg, his hair subtly shifting from the minute movement. He shouted at him acknowledging the growing distance, "Do you mean it?"

There wasn't an immediate answer. Tidus kicked the railing of the bridge making it reverberate sharply down the street with a sonorous 'bing.'

But Auron continued before he was completely out of earshot, "If you're not afraid. Past the wastelands, there's a mountain dividing Spira and Zanarkand."

"I know the story."

"If you can survive Gagazet, you should be able to see it."

"Gagazet?"

"The silent guardian of Zanarkand, the mountain you can barely past the skyline. We called it Gagazet."

Tidus was unable to completely wipe the look of discontent at the man. To think he was in such a good mood earlier today, no less, just ten minutes ago. Tidus thinned his lips irritatingly.

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Tidus groaned as his feet touched the carpet of his bedroom floor, incredibly relieved to be in a closed space.

Home again and free from the people in his city, Tidus slumped over his bed and sat at the very edge. The mattress bent awkwardly under his weight. Tidus kicked off his shoes at a snail's pace, now alone in his boat-house and the silent atmosphere of his room, his prior unrelenting certainty waned. Auron sure knew how to drive a stake into a moving tire that was for sure.

With his feet still planted to his floor, he leaned back to the mattress until the back of his head relaxed into his comforter. The angry frown relaxed until it disappeared into a firm line of his lips, too tired to continue the war gutting in his mind.

Tidus folded his arms behind his head. Staring up at his cycling fan through the small crack of his eyelids, Tidus exhaled languidly and drifted off to dreaming.

_._

He rolled over as his breathing lightened. A strip of Tidus' hair slid near his nose as he tucked his forearm under his face with his black ankle socks inconspicuously sliding off of his feet.

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**Dream:**

The sea waves were getting close to his shoes. Every night, he dreamt that he was standing alone in the beach. Not from Zanarkand's beach, but the wastelands clear across the other side of the ocean, the very place Auron said where Spira was beyond.

Why he was there and all alone, was an enigma, but the look on his face in his dream told him he had a purpose being there. He was staring solemnly at the ominous sky when a white light shone just beneath his torso.

It was a flying ball of light with a tail like wavering gasoline. It moved like it had a mind of its own. He realized that it was playing with him, attracted to his presence. He kept an eye on that one ball of light, watching it fly in circles around his body. Before he knew it, there were multiple pyreflies dancing together in the air.

There were no more than five pyreflies in the beach, all of them enchanting him in a way. They had his undivided attention until he saw a towering mountain in the distance. He slightly tilted his chin to catch a glimpse of the peak. As he did however, the pyreflies gracefully flew upward, away from him. The higher they went, the faster they faded to nothingness.

The animal-like comets were evaporating and Tidus didn't know why.

For a brief moment, Tidus went to reach for a pyrefly... but stopped short, fearful of touching only to see it fade all the sooner with his attempt.

He was left alone with the mountain before him.

"_WHISTLE_!"

His eyes widened. His dream self had gone into full alert for the source. He almost smiled but slipped into panic mode.

It was the whistle again! He heard it! He was sure of it! It was calling him. He wasn't dreaming it this time, he—

**End Dream.**

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"Gh!" a loud murmur or panicked pant sounded.

A sharp creak from the springs sounded when Tidus shot up off the bed suddenly like his mattress was on fire. His hair clumped to his forehead. It was the twelfth time he had that dream.

After a stale few seconds of heavy breathing, outright panting from exhaustion, Tidus loudly groaned at the disrupted sleep. The room was scorching, and it was no wonder he was so hot.

After prying open the window just half arm's length away, he dropped like a dead man back into his pillows then found that the ceiling fan had mysteriously stopped over the course of the night. Mechanically, he shook his head.

Drearily, he lifted himself from his bed, and headed to the kitchen counter, more specifically the sink.

Flipping up the chrome lever, the water screeched out the pipes and poured endlessly through the drain. Slipping his hand in pathway, he mindlessly stared at the water running through his finger. He only had five hours of sleep this time around. Positive that there were was no way he could go back to sleep any time soon, he began to wash his face without caring whether he splashed water onto his clothes or if the cool water ran down his neck and hair.

He even itched and cleansed the backs of his ears. After a minute of his dreary ministrations, his wet hand lingered on his nape.

By this time, Tidus was well awake, despite the slight hint of dark circles impressed underneath his icy blues.

Tidus had thought he would feel relieved knowing he was finally going to get some answers: answers about Spira, his dream… but just like hours before, he was starting to feel unsure.

His bangs were dripping wet, and were continually splattering water on the countertop.

Despite the blacken sky, Zanarkand was definitely not asleep. Far off, he could hear the traffic and people cheering in the stadium. Sighing, he combed his damp hair back but his resilient bangs drooped forward once his hand left his wispy locks.

He could barely tell what time it was, considering it was the dead of winter. The sun wouldn't rise for another few weeks. Tidus probably had no more than six hours of sleep, which felt like three. Curiously looking for the clock somewhere lying around the kitchen, it was then he finally noticed a lone page on the other side of the counter.

His brow tightened.

Watching it intently, he went around the counter as his hand trailed across the tile. As soon as he could, he reached for it note and held it in front of his stomach. There was at least a half a page of instructions in Auron's handwriting…

_Your story starts when you decide to come after me._

He didn't get past the first line.

Tidus refrained from slamming his palms on the counter.

"Dammit, Auron!" he crumbled up the paper angrily and forced it down his pocket.

He flew across his home, grabbing everything he thought he needed in a frantic pace: healing items and fire-starters which he stuffed into his belt pouches, mercenary pills for energy and stave off hunger which he got from Auron, and his father's sword.

Minutes later, he burst out of the front door and ran toward the forbidden wastelands with a sword in hand.

There was no way Auron was leaving him behind.

Unconsciously, his grip on the sheathed sword tightened. The thought of having to use it perturbed him. He never wielded a sword, let alone wanted to. Worst of all, it was _Jecht's_ sword. That fact alone made his blood curdle.

(Narrated) Auron's letter:

_Your story starts when you decide to come after me._

_Take your father's sword then head toward the wastelands across the __Black Sea__. Follow the path through the cavern of the mountain and keep going until you can feel ice beneath your feet. It's vital you find a man named Braska as soon as possible, tell him I sent you. You should be able to find him in a city called Bevelle._

_Trust no one but Braska with your origins._

Auron was gonna hear it the next he saw him! Despite the growing distress of the thought of wielding his old man's sword, he knew he had no other choice. Tidus sprinted faster and faster in the hopes of catching up with Auron, knowing there was no way that he could fight his way in battles.

He silently prayed that he didn't have to use it.

He darted down his dock to end of the pier, where his hover board that rested against its rack at the end of his private dock lay. As he bolted past it, Tidus grabbed it for dear life then tossed under his feet and took off in a spurt of speed.

The foot pads gleamed brightly, and he flew over the ocean waves like a jet just like he had done many times before.

The sea wind whipped at his hair and clothes as he headed for the dry wastelands. The slipstream of his board was a bright, glimmering purple.

Tidus peered over his shoulder to see the skyscrapers and sky-rivers of Zanarkand get smaller and smaller. He smiled widely. Tidus brought two of his fingers to his lips then kissed them. As though he were a rock star or once again a professional athlete, he saluted the shrinking Zanarkand with his two fingers, only this time as a farewell.

Suddenly, he laughed, surprised by his own goodbye to his home.

Still grinning wildly, he erupted through the air in an explosion of speed. It seemed like he pierced the sky. His skin scaled with goose bumps from the winter air.

He felt homesick already, but he had to find out who was waiting for him beyond Zanarkand's walls, beyond the mountain, Gagazet.

.

**Elsewhere on Mt. Gagazet, early morning**

Kimahri Ronso was kneeling before Kelk. He was one of the other hundred welcoming back their Elder from Bevelle.

All of them hunched over, resting on their knuckles, Kimahri risen his head when his leader's shadow had passed over him. He had hoped for a letter of some kind from Yuna or Braska, but unfortunately, Kelk had continued his way without hesitation. Kimahri lowered his gaze back to the snow without a trace of emotion.

Biran beside him growled, "Pet waiting for commands?" Yenke beside him softly chuckled.

With their muzzles continuing to point downwards at the snow, Kimahri's knuckles tightened, frozen in his place.

"Lord Braska keeps Yuna safe," Biran once again whispered, this time more genuinely. "Kimahri not trust Lord Braska?"

Yenke snickered, "Kimahri not know what to do without his owner."

Biran was about snarl at his companion when a roar bellowed from the peak.

"Biran!" Kelk called for him from the distance, but it was impossible for Maester Kelk to have known they were speaking. The only sign that Biran had heard was the shifting yellow braids and the beads clacking against his collarbone that hinted that he moved his neck. Biran Ronso was a hero for all Ronso clans, and therefore, spoke with Elder like a comrade.

Kimahri shut his eyes patiently, seething out the anger into nothing. Biran slowly made to stand, silencing Yenke with a slight chomp of his jaws as though he nipped the air of a precious jewel. Yenke angrily frowned, but wisely clamped his mouth shut.

"High Summoner Braska protects Lady Yuna with life," Biran stated coldly as he and Yenke went up the slopes, but Kimahri knew there was a compliment in there somewhere. He had called Yuna a title she had yet earned.

Biran truly believed Kimahri to be an unfit guardian, but he never doubted Yuna's capabilities one instant. Kimahri glared at the soles of Biran's moving feet. The respect he had for Yuna eased Kimahri boiling blood out to pasture.

.

**Bevelle**

It brought back a lot of memories spinning his staff in his hand. The sleek black cane versus Yuna's traditional one, neither engaged in any arduous effort, a chess match of sorts.

To fight with only a staff was an art, and Braska was nearly a Da Vinci. He lectured over and over to his daughter of the importance of being capable to defend oneself, if there ever came a time the guardians couldn't. He told her he learned that the hard way.

However, his daughter had the natural talent and the means to be best summoner Spira had ever seen. Braska's pride swelled certain of Yuna's _inevitable_ success.

He bore a smug smirk, twatting away her staff. The smirk irrevocably disappeared when Yuna surprised him by poking him in the chest.

"Thank Yevon this isn't swords…" Braska murmured, nearly making Yuna break her serious frown. She couldn't conceal the laughter in her eyebrows.

"Hm," Yuna hummed.

High Summoner Braska Darrow was a short man with broad shoulders, brown hair almost too short to brush, and yet _he_ was a household name. According to news, he could be Spira's most famous summoner since Yunalesca who lived well over a thousand years ago.

His accomplishments gave Grand Maester Mika the inspiration to create a new position for his prestige, High Summoner. For you see, he was the man who visited the fairy tale city and lived to come back. To this day, he'd been the only person do so in recorded history.

Zanarkand by all means and purposes was nothing but a story, equivalent to Heaven.

"You think Spira is ready for another Darrow summoner?" Braska asked.

"They'd better be," Yuna replied. Her staff parried her father's.

Braska straightened his arm, and nearly smacked Yuna at her side, "Sch!" but it was met with Yuna's weapon.

"Hm," he finally confirmed the end.

His tux showed the wrinkles from his hurried pace. She'd finally matched her father, and in that, Yuna couldn't prevent the bashful smile.

It surprised her a great deal when her father had requested a light spar to see how her bojutsu was coming along, especially since he had just returned from a congressional occasion not twenty minutes ago.

"Good," Braska retracted his staff, "Your form is set, it looks natural. Kimahri would be proud."

"Think so?" Yuna smiled.

Braska curtly nodded. "He's in for a shock, I'm sure," he commented as he transformed his weapon to a mere three feet. He exited to the office, doubling his weapon as a cane.

"…Is there a reason why you're still in the tuxedo?"

"In another hour, I'll be—"

"Heading off?" she finished, complete with an innocent smile.

Yuna Darrow had just turned nineteen, a near idealist had it had been for her unfailing sense of reality. That was the trouble for having a politician for a father.

"You know how it is," Braska frowned. "The mayor's asked me to accompany the meeting with Trommel, apparently something's recently happened in Guadosalam. Things haven't really changed much since I've become a High Summoner..."

Braska adjusted his jacket, and stripped off the bowtie around his neck, having to use both hands to do so. Yuna's eyes drifted lazily to the mountain high papers on his desk. The collection always seemed to get bigger and bigger by the day.

Her father was the only summoner to have been gifted with a title that no longer placed his life in danger. However, his role changed from a humanitarian to an official.

She started fiddling with the black leather band that was wrapped around her dainty wrist numerous of times, unaware that she placed her father as background noise. The black material was prominent, out of place of her otherwise feminine, classy appearance.

Yuna smiled at the wristband, thankful for Kimahri being able to send her a present. It was strapping that all Ronso received when they come of age, and the only humans to ever wear them were the ones Ronsos considered apart of their clan. She was maybe one out of a handful of people in Spira over thousands of years to ever receive one.

Her thoughts scattered quickly, to her various best friends hundreds of miles away from Bevelle. Each of them were told, or in other words _commanded_, to stay away from Yuna for the duration of her summoner training. It was taboo for would-be guardians to stay.

So Kimahri left to Mt. Gagazet, waiting for a direct summons back to Bevelle at any given day, and he was probably itching to get back to resume his duties as her guardian. Unfortunately, he had no where else to go but his former home.

Rikku was probably blowing up half of Bikanel Island with her alchemic experiments, or digging for machina along with Brother. It was closing in on four years since she'd seen her cousin in-person. If it weren't for sphere messages, Yuna wouldn't know how she changed or what she looked like.

Meanwhile, Wakka and Lulu were undoubtedly enjoying the calm paradise of Besaid. Their letters never had an exciting number of news or events that Rikku's had. But wouldn't you know it? Wakka and Lulu were engaged. Yuna's lips curled at the thought.

Yuna found herself suddenly looking over at Gagazet for no apparent reason for possibly the sixth time today, and probably the twentieth time this week. At first, she wrote it off as wondering what Kimahri was doing, but now she wasn't so sure.

"—Yuna?"

"Hm?" she looked up to find her father waiting on her. "Oh sorry," she followed after him into his study.

Braska smiled gently to his daughter, "Something on your mind?"

Yuna returned it, though on a more pragmatic approach as she shook her head.

He _seemingly_ changed topics, "This is the last day for your summoner training. After this, I'm no longer your teacher. Thankfully, you can see your friends again," but he hit the nail on the head. Yuna was starting to think that he could her mind. "I've taken the liberties of sending letters to Besaid."

It caught Yuna's attention irrevocably. "You did?"

Braska smiled wide, "Oh yeah. I said all kind things, like how it's been, your progress… Who knows, I might've added something about your training near its end."

"When?" Yuna asked anxiously.

"Some time ago, they're probably on halfway here right now."

"Kimahri—?"

Braska saddened a bit, "Tsk, unfortunately, Maester Kelk wouldn't have allowed an early release. Wakka and Lulu don't have anyone forbidding them, but without the Grand Maester's stamp and seal, Kimahri's retrieval letter won't be sent until I personally take the business to Grand Maester Mika. However, Besaid is much more lax…"

"They're really coming then..."

"Remember, they're here to become official guardians. From now on, you're their summoner. You'll have to be the leader and make the tough decisions."

"Father…do you think I'm ready?" Yuna brought her hands above her belly and intertwined the fingers, "To be a summoner?"

"The Cloisters exist for the sole purpose to deem whether a person is a worthy to become a summoner, but the final test is the sending itself, in the last chamber in the Ceylatrul. You can't be a summoner if you can't perform the sending."

Yuna directed her eyes to the floor.

"I have no doubt you'll pass. You're more than ready," Yuna didn't immediately relax at his words, "but, I want to… I want to make it clear that you do not have to do this…"

"It's something I always wanted to do," she approached a different window. "I've wanted this more than I wanted anything else…"

Braska smiled and went to look to her, but frowned when he saw that she had once again set her eyes on Mt. Gagazet almost unconsciously. It wasn't the first time he caught her doing so, and he was sure she didn't recognize what she was doing. For once, the all knowing High Summoner of Spira was at a loss of whether to grin or become worried.

"…Auron's fine," he said unexpectedly. "I'm sure he'll fulfill his promise. It's what he's best at."

Yuna snapped out of daydreaming, "Hm?"

"Zanarkand…" Braska smirked, "It's beautiful out there, especially at night. Did you know no matter what time of the year, night time could last for days?"

She suspiciously glanced over to him before looking back out the window.

"When we first arrived, we thought all there was on the other side was a desert. To my surprise, there was a big black ocean. The light pollution from Zanarkand's city lights were so intense, we could see it from well across the coast. It's like seeing Luca's dome from the shores of Besaid. Auron and I found out they haven't seen war for centuries."

"What happened to Auron?"

"He... he found something in Zanarkand that he couldn't find in Spira. When we left for Zanarkand, we truly thought we'd find nothing, but it turned out that the thing I wanted most for Spira was indeed possible."

"How come you've never talked about Zanarkand before? Why now?"

"…Zanarkand isn't what people think it is. Something about Mt. Gagazet protects Zanarkand like a child, but it seems you inherited your mother's dreaming... However, it is part of my final lecture from father to daughter. Things that we think can only exist in dreams could very well be reality. Things that we may have given up on and things that we can't even imagine are out there just waiting to be discovered. Something that might look billions of miles away could very well be within hand's reach. Very soon, you _are_ going to be a summoner. As a summoner, you must have an inner strength."

"Faith," Yuna faintly smiled.

Braska deeply inhaled, and his voice dropped an obvious few keys, "Find something you have faith for, undoubtable faith that is_ independent_ of how you lived that doesn't cling to Yevon in any way. I'm telling you to search for it. People want a savior, a liberator. That could be a person, a place, a principle, or a feeling. What people don't realize is that instead of waiting for it, we need to search for it. When you found your faith, nothing can bring you down."

Yuna noted every expression that crossed her father's face. He truly treated this lecture as his last in virtually every way possible. While he was great at concealing his true thoughts, Braska's demeanor hinted at that he expected something to happen.

The clouds that surrounded Mt. Gagazet turned grey and clotted, but looked too ordinary to grab attention.

.

**Zanarkand - Wastelands, Spiran Land, base of Mt. Gagazet, January 1st.  
**

Streaks of blond hair swashed wildly in the wind.

Tidus perked his head to side, staring below his hover board. The ocean was long gone, and replaced with a sort of desert, a salt flat, with no forms of life that he could see.

His right leg went numb from the nonstop strain he placed on them. He'd been flying for several straight hours. Tidus decreased the altitude he was flying in, readjusting his shoes on the pads. His hair felt as though he camped out in a freezer for a night and his eyebrows were tightly furrowed against the crosswinds.

Nonetheless, Tidus felt happy. Momentarily, he was depressed he didn't think of bring a coat of any kind. The mountain was nearing, and already, Tidus' flight path was over the beginnings of the hills toward Gagazet. Nothing could live out here other than fiends.

Tidus warily scanned the area. The sparse fiends in the area howling, and roaring accompanied the hum of his machina filled the silence. Finally, he caught sight of a cave on flat platform, halfway up the mountain side. Tidus' growing smile was the only feature in his countenance that reacted. The board descended down an inconspicuous few feet, still quite a ways from the ground below.

He almost felt renewed. Tidus could barely contain his grin.

But then with a heavy intake of air, Tidus suddenly felt his heartbeat slow and an ominous feeling fall deep within his lungs.

Grins that used to plaster his face dwindled, slow at first, but completely down turning to a vacant, puzzled frown.

The deep warmth in his body had suddenly turned cold. His foot lessened on the accelerator pad until he was only hovering as he tried to register the sudden feeling, the premonition that something was about happen. Cautiously turning around, Tidus saw Zanarkand as nothing but a six inch span of light across the ocean horizon from where he stood. The brilliantly lit city was silent.

Something terrible was going to happen... something wonderful.

It was then the sky turned absolutely flare-red.

There weren't any stars of any kind, and for Tidus, the pleasure of routine was no more.

Tidus' eyes jerked to the skyline like something was pleading him to do so. His left arm began shaking to his confusion, and his lips parted in pure stunned fascination. How was it possible for the dead of winter that Zanarkand had a colorful sky? Tidus clenched the muscles in his body, most prominent, his jaw line. Zanarkand wasn't even supposed to see a sunrise for another six weeks.

All of Zanarkand seemed to hush all at once. The crazed fans in the stadium were no longer screaming for joy. The chatter and clamor of the people walking the streets just seemed to stop. All of them stiff at the unnatural blood red sky.

That was the first time in history when all of Zanarkand was silent.

Within that moment, the skyscrapers in the city shattered all simultaneously, bursting into flames. Fiends began to fill the sky like a storm with shrieks of agony, screeches of malice. The snapping of buildings and horrid shots filled the air. People ran for their lives.

The ground rumbled frantically, and Tidus flit his attention to the shaking earth beneath his board. The rocks that were once at rest were now sliding down the mountainside.

"SrrG!" something snarled.

Tidus jerked around just in time to see a fiend leap from the platform below to gnaw at his hover board.

"Holy-!" he shouted, compulsively ascending a couple feet up in the air.

Taking the initiative, Tidus bolted to get away from Gagazet as soon as possible. Dozens of fiends were already clawing at him, jumping to his ankles like raptors. Skillfully, Tidus sailed away in another eruption of speed and height, performing a tail kickback.

Never had he expected that the tricks he performed out of boredom could ever save his life.

"What in the hell is going on?"

The end of the demanding earthquakes revealed the entire city of Zanarkand alight in fire.

His eyes widened in disbelief. Truly, that was the only time Tidus felt unimaginable shock and fear. Too far from the actual island city, he couldn't hear not a sound of the cries of his people, nor see the individual or the herds of people gasping for breath. His ears were ringing from the pops of Zanarkand's structures toppling.

The sky-rivers that were strewn across the city's sky had collapsed. The streets and whole town divisions were flooding. The sheer force of the current dragged anyone and everyone to the ocean. The vacuum, the power, the freezing sea water, it all lead to one fate: drowning.

He had to go back!

Tidus grit his teeth together. It wasn't going to start like this! Not now! He slammed his foot on the accelerator recklessly, and his feet almost left the board altogether.

Tidus went into through every trick he knew. Weaving away from the flying fiend's clutches, he hungered for momentum like a speed demon. There was no way he was letting someone who he could save die. He could feel his lungs shrivel, but he kept going. If he could save at least one person, it'd be worth it. His calves were bulging with power and he seemed to be flying faster than a shooting star.

He had to go back to Zanarkand!

A bat-like monster flew straight for Tidus' torso. Whipping sharply into a tummy-tuck, he nosedived to the point which the ground was but a step away. What he hadn't count on however, was a dragon fiend crawling out of a crater arming itself to blast fireball for his arm. It missed by a few feet, but it exploded just behind him and the heat and the power blew Tidus far from his board.

Tidus landed like a rag doll, rolling violently across the rocks. With a loud final thud, Tidus was on his stomach, using his forearms to hold his body up but then sunk into the ground to rest. His body was shaking from the crash, making him temporarily incapable of slipping away from the crater he created in the dry banks. A second crash sounded far from his person, a mechanic clash.

His lunar split in half and the gears, cogs and springs that were once inside were splattered across the mountain side.

Out of sheer adrenaline, Tidus unsteadily got to his feet. The red sky's fiends, traveling by the hundreds, didn't care for him anymore. They excitedly went their merry way to Zanarkand.

He collapsed to his knees once again, forced to kneel from the explosions and earthquakes. Just how many fiends were here?

"Goddamn it..." Tidus whimpered in pain. He bolted upright and ran for some sort of shelter, anything. The incredible sense of loneliness and hopelessness was dreading his will to live at that moment.

As miserable as it all was, things just got worse. A fiend swooped in right in front of Tidus, baring its fangs and blocking his path. Out of panic, Tidus skidded to a halt and landed somewhat on his backside and hands before jumping back onto his feet.

The fiend's bone-crushing mandibles heaved harsh breaths that transformed into flames that kindled around the slits of its lizard-like nose.

Tidus urgently tried to unsheathe his sword but the blade fumbled clumsily in the sheath, and didn't even pull out. His heart raced and all he could concentrate on were his shaking hands. Finally, he yanked the sword out, displaying it nervously at the beast. It was his sole means of keeping his distance away from the monster. The only problem was: he had never swung a sword before in his life. Knowing there was no way in hell he could save his life with it, Tidus broke into a sprint.

Yet before Tidus could get away, the fiend struck him with its tail, snapping him off his feet and sending the sword high, straight into the air. He thought he was hit by a bus as it carried him until he was slammed into a boulder.

"Gdrhh!" his back made impact. He fell hard, belly-flopping onto the mountain terrain and began to fall in and out of consciousness. The dragon's growling became louder and louder.

All that phased his brain was one insistent phrase, '…_I'm going to die_.'

The fiend cried. Its claws raped the salt flat. Tidus shut his eyes tightly. It was coming. Unconsciously, his whole body clenched but then without warning, the growling stopped as though the fiend just suddenly disappeared.

Tidus' eyelids became the heaviest thing the world, and he was barely able to open them more than a crack.

Confused, Tidus tried to lift his head up but all he could do was weakly let his chin act like a kickstand. The sword that was smacked out of his hand was now sticking out of the ground looking triumphant as pyreflies flew around in the air.

He never would've figured his life would be saved by sheer dumb luck. The sword fatally pierced the fiend as it fell back down when it was thrown out of his hands.

The last image he could recall were balls of white light with tails like gasoline rainbows, flying in a sky completely red. Then, his icy blues faded under his dirty blond hair as they finally closed.

.

.

The sky was shrouded in blackness by the smoke from the burnt city. His eyes were swollen and Tidus didn't need a mirror to understand the bags that were under his eyes. Groaning in pain, he timidly rubbed his aching head, scarcely able to make out anything too far in the distance, let alone anything ten feet in front of him.

_He remembered Auron's note and then racing after the man clearly._

_But for the life of him, when he woke up, he couldn't recall how in the world he ended up on the salt flat face down._

.

**Fade to black.**

**Seagulls cawing, sunny Bevelle**

**Fade in, three days later.**

**Bevelle, Dock Number 17**

Herds of people crowded the dock. Most people filing off the ferry were people seeing their loved ones. Wakka's bright orange-red hair stood out from the rest. Yuna shook her head playfully at sight of Wakka jumping and waving his arms as though she couldn't see him at all.

He had suddenly turned to Lulu behind, halfway down the ramp. He exuded same rapturous joy whenever at a blitzball game. Yuna could very well see the spark in their eyes whenever their eyes caught the others.

Wakka hadn't changed much in the past few years. He still had a barrel-chest, arms the size guns, and a fisherman's gait, and he was still taller than almost everyone there. But Lulu on the hand had. The womanly and sophisticated person Yuna once knew was still as plain for everyone to see, but Lu had an undeniable serenity to her that she hadn't seen in quite some time. Her fancy black dress was replaced with a much simpler one. Her once pale skin seemed much more colored, and the handful strips of braided raven hair was let loose.

"Heey!"

Yuna barely just heard Wakka when he engulfed her into a bear hug, clutching her in his arms like his favorite toy as he lifted her high off the ground. He practically flashed forty feet in two seconds. Lulu chuckled at the scene, deciding to take a more subdued approach as she made her way across the pier.

"Hey Wakka! You came!" Yuna breathed.

"Of course!" he dropped her back on the cement. "We came as soon as we found out. It's been awhile, ya? Lu's been missing you like crazy."

Yuna smiled, "I'm glad you guys made it here safely."

"Yeah, that was a long boat trip, eh Lu? I thought we'd never make it." Wakka briefly laid his hand on Yuna's shoulder. "It's great to see you again, Yuna."

"You too, Wakka," she said, but then having caught sight of Lulu coming towards her she quickly called out to her in surprise. "Lulu?"

Immediately, Wakka stepped aside to give them room, grinning wildly as Lulu and Yuna excitedly embraced the very second they could. Yuna wrapped her arms enthusiastically around the older woman's shoulders, and Lulu propped her up ready to cradle the girl.

"How've you been?" Lulu asked into her hair.

"I've been good," she murmured as pulled away. Lulu's hugs were something she had always missed. It was what she imagined would be the way her mom would've hugged her.

Lulu gave Yuna the once over, "My, you've really grown."

"Well, it's been three years."

Loud, boisterous conversations filled the air, not just between them, but between the other hundred or so people in the area.

Wakka slung his arm around Lulu and formed a tight circle between the close friends. "I can't tell you how glad I am the Guardian Exile is over. I'm sure Kimahri and Rikku will run to your side the second they find out."

Other people who disembarked the ferry all passed by the trio down the pier— a few sending questioning glances.

"Doesn't she look like Lord Braska's daughter?" Lulu heard someone whisper as they passed by.

Lulu cautiously looked around, catching people here in there paying particular attention them. Lulu furrowed her eyebrows, catching only bits of pieces of Yuna and Wakka's banter. Returning her attention back after hearing Wakka suddenly erupt in laughter, she studied Yuna for a short time. Her eyes were closed with mirth, outwardly as carefree as Wakka was.

Lulu smiled sadly, thinking that Yuna trained herself not to notice any more.

"So, you two are engaged now?"

"You got our letter?" Wakka's face lit up.

"A little over a week ago." Yuna smiled brightly, "I'm very happy for you two."

Wakka gazed over to Lulu and reached out to hold her hand, "Yeah, we're happy too but we decided to put off the wedding for awhile. We're guardians first, ya?"

At that, Yuna's smile softened, hiding with expertise the frown that almost came.

.

Braska stared intently at his office's sphere-screen.

**Breaking News: Maester Jyscal Guado found dead.**

1st Reporter: "25 years Maester, Lord Jyscal Guado left for the Farplane this morning, leaving Guadosalam and Bevelle in disarray."

Braska grabbed his remote and increased the volume.

2nd Reporter: "We're here today, outside the Grand Council's steps awaiting Grand Maester Mika to address who shall succeed his position as Maester. Unfortunately, there seems to be no sign him or any of the other members of the council handling the situation. What's more, the Guado have put into motion a world-wide shut-out, closing all gates to Guadosalam to all races outside of their own."

"The tension between the groups has escalated tenfold in the past few hours and Bevelle's streets have been filled to see what Spira's government has in store."

"With Maester Kelk still away Mt. Gagazet, things aren't looking good for Bevelle at the moment..."

Outside the building, people have been chanting for him. If there was one thing Braska knew, it was that chanting about anything related to the government was never a good thing. While Spira has mostly respected Yevon and its council, Spira was nothing like Zanarkand.

At any moment, bad could turn to worse.

Braska assumed that only half of Bevelle was aware of Jyscal's death, and he had hoped that Yuna hadn't heard yet.

Tap-like knocks brought Braska out of his reverie.

Shelinda was just outside Braska's office door. "Sir?" he heard her muffled voice through the glass. "People would like to know if you would…?" she couldn't bring herself to finish.

Snapping his head upward, Braska saw the woman shrugging, as if she were apologizing.

"I'll be right out."

Shelinda nodded and left for her desk while clinging onto dozens and dozens of files that no doubt heavily weighed her down.

Braska pressed his hand to his head. In truth, he was in mourning for his friend, but with the press already waiting for him outside, he had little time to grieve. He shook his head and pushed the feelings aside for a later time as he quickly shut off the sphere-screen while getting up from his chair.

He grabbed his black suit jacket from his chair and was out the door in a dash. Braska's shined shoes rapped on the floor, and arms professionally maneuvered his jacket on as he waltzed through the corridor.

Braska continued walking without hesitation as he passed by his assistant's desk. Her eyes were following him like desperate hawk, awaiting any order.

"Shelinda," he called out, "would you make sure that Yuna doesn't make it anywhere near the square for the rest of the day?"

Shelinda bolted from her chair following after him through the corridors, "I'll send a message to all the checkpoint gates, but High Summoner Braska... how do we know she isn't there already?"

"Sending the message will be fine. If she's there, she's there, but if not I would like to make sure she and a few other people are in good hands and out of the situation as much as possible. Her guardians just arrived today. She was supposed to meet them at the port…"

Every person they passed throughout the building stopped and bowed. Though, he didn't bother to greet them.

"I understand, Lord Braska." The final grand staircase was ahead of them, and it was then Shelinda stopped following altogether. "I'll make sure of all checkpoints receive the message."

Braska didn't look over at her, if at all through the conversation. He was already down the staircase and in the main lobby.

_"Yuna, I hope you're doing well,"_ he thought.

Soon, he was out the building. Braska momentarily blocked the sunlight with his hand, unintentionally hiding his face from the press for a few short seconds. But when they saw too familiar short brown hair and the necklace of a very small blue sphere around his neck, the crowd quickly collected together. Braska could see a lone podium waiting for him. As graciously as he could, he stepped toward it with a careful confidence.

Reporters and photographers were hell-bent on gathering before it. There were a handful of microphones perched in front of him. Taking a sincere gaze across the many people there, he searched worriedly for Yuna's face as he waited for the crowd to hush. Civilians all alike stopped murmuring. Braska grew more and more relaxed upon realizing that Yuna wasn't there.

He lifted his chin as if he was greeting everyone there. The frenzied reporters took it a sign to barrage him with a flood of questions.

"Lord Braska! Do you have any comments on the death of Maester Jyscal!"

"What about his son, Lord Seymour? Can you confirm that he'll become the new Guado Maester?"

"Was Maester Jyscal's death foul play? Was he killed because you and Lord Jyscal sought to dissolve the segregation laws withheld in Spira?"

"Does this set back any plans for Spira knowing that one of Spira's biggest integration advocates has died?"

All the questions mashed themselves one after the other.

Braska raised his hands, gesturing for them to lower their voices.

Eventually, the clamor died down and the only sounds were the clicks and flashes of the cameras.

"I'm sorry to say that I don't know anything about the Guado's affairs. I cannot answer whether or not Lord Seymour will succeed him, nor do I know his cause of death. I'm sure that no matter who takes up the mantle of Maester for the Guado, I believe that Jyscal's legacy will continue to live on."

While the sound of the snapping of cameras continued, a lone reporter asked loudly, "What would you say Maester Jyscal's legacy is, Lord Braska?"

"The will to realize a united world, where our judgments of someone aren't bounded by race, but by character, and the idea of fighting for something, no matter how hopeless. I think that the hopeless causes are always the ones worth fighting for and I'll eagerly fight with him for it. Someday, there will be a day in all Spira where every living person, Ronso, Guado, or Al Bhed and Yevonite, can all understand each other and live in peace _together_."

Gunshot.

The reporters, citizens and onlookers screamed, ducked, frenzied and frightened. They were clinging on the reality that they could be in the line of fire. Most of them clutched onto an object, like a brief case, cameras, and even paper folders in a feeble attempt it protect their bodies.

Gunshot.

Braska fell.

People were screaming.

Gunshot.

High Summoner Braska Darrow was no more.

.

**.**

**The Exit of the Caverns, ****Mt.****Gagazet****, days later**

Tidus eased himself out of a crevasse, though finding out the hard way one of his shoes was stuck under a mass of rocks. Kicking himself free, Tidus landed on his forearms and struggled to stand again. His father's sheath brushed against his legs. Finally out of the cave, Tidus' slender bumble shoes seeped into the snow before he finally passed out a few feet from the mouth of the cave. His golden hair and dark complexion could be spotted as far as the eye could see.

A distance away, Kimahri had watched the nineteen-year-old escape the horrors of the cavern. Stoically, he approached Spira's first Zanarkand-born visitor in the last millennium. He studied the boy until he saw a startling amount of goose bumps covering his entire body, and his skin quickly losing color in the wind. His face was becoming noticeably redder with the all the blood rushing to his head. Kimahri heavily sighed.

He threw his body over his shoulder and the soft skin on Kimahri's paw could feel Tidus' bones shivering.

Dizzily, he spoke, "...Auron?"

Kimahri closed his eyes in response, and silently walked toward the Ronso village.

Tidus succumbed to his exhaustion.

.

**End Chapter 1**

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	3. Ch 2 In Wonderland

**Music: **Tidus' Theme & Tidus' Theme piano collections, Servants of the Mountain, Hymn of the Fayth (Ronso), and Braska's Daughter.

Review Response: Knight of Wings - Eventually he will.

**Author Notes: **I've changed Maester Kelk's appearance greatly, he's literally not the same character visibly. He's the only character in this entire story that changes that dramatically. He'll make appearances more often much later in the story as his role in the story will eventually become more important.

Enjoy.

* * *

.

_Previously:_

**Mt.****Gagazet**

Kimahri threw his body over his shoulder. The soft pads of Kimahri's paw could feel his bones shivering.

Dizzily, he spoke, "Auron?"

Kimahri closed his eyes in response, and silently walked toward the Ronso village.

Instantly, Tidus succumbed to his exhaustion.

.

**Ch.**** 2 In Wonderland**

.

By the time Tidus finally arrived to Spira, all he had with him were the clothes on his back and a red, rusty sword and the days he spent lost in Mt. Gagazet's caverns had been all a haze.

Tidus swore at point that Jecht sat beside him one night. The hallucination of his supposed dead father stroked the campfire as he told him wordless stories.

The pirate-esque man hadn't aged a bit in the last ten years. He still bore a red bandana across his forehead, and the rough bristles of his goatee and mustache were groomed in the same fashion without a clue of his should-be middle age. That whole night Jecht kept him company. He even guffawed and crossed his arms as though he come upon a victorious moment of his story, yet the only things to be heard were the stalagmites dripping water and the crackling fire.

Jecht's lips kept moving. It moved and moved. He was talking but nothing came out. Either Tidus' hearing was impaired, or Jecht wasn't really there. Tidus had stared at him as though his whole body was paralyzed, stiff at the sight of his dead old man.

"I'm sorry," Jecht mouthed.

.

Tidus laid unconscious in Kimahri's tent, relatively silent and the color in his skin was slowly returning.

Sluggishly, Tidus opened his eyes. Disorientated, his mind couldn't grasp that he was alive - no less realize that his cheeks had a dry, pasty white stream of tears. He buried his face into the furs beneath him and had unintentionally cleaned his face before he blacked out again.

Kimahri loomed over the hearth, unaware that Tidus had moved at all. His face burned from the intensity of the fire that he tended to in hopes that it was hot enough to warm the teenager.

.

**_Ronso _****_Village_****_, Valley of the Mt._**

By and by, the calmness of the snowy valley belied the true nature of the overturned village. Menial tasks for some reason or another took hours.

Hidden murmurs and uneducated bouts of speculation plagued the area.

Barely a day had passed, and already all the Ronso knew of the strange visitor. While the majority of the proud Ronso kept their thoughts to themselves or traditionally remained inconspicuous, there were the occasional arrogant handful who didn't, the most notable being the great Biran, hero of the Ronso. He was superior to the rumors and gossip of his clan. Unlike the lesser Ronso, he knew the story of how the human came to be here.

Biran sneered, knowing that it was the stunted cub Kimahri that found Tidus and rescued him, stealing his glory.

Elder Kelk secretly informed Biran that Tidus was chosen by Yevon as was Kimahri. Kimahri was hand-picked to save Tidus.

Biran spat, "Bah! Kimahri chosen by Yevon? Mountain knows Biran the better Ronso!"

Yenke guffawed, "Gah-ha! Maybe it not by Yevon! Maybe mountain confused Biran's shadow with Kimahri's."

Biran roared, to be confused with such an individual was in Biran's opinion the greatest offenses that bellowed in his ears! Yenke didn't flinched and merely but a fist to his chest.

"The sun sets, making Kimahri's shadow twice its size!" Yenke's teeth stained were yellow, he smiled, one of them a dinghy brown.

Biran exhaled as he stood over the gates on the cliffs. His voice grew quiet as his blood ceased to boil, "Elder Kelk thinks the human is from Zanarkand..."

Yenke's eyes grew wide, "_Zanar__kand_?"

He nodded, "Elder Kelk keeps it a secret from everyone. He thinks suspicions best be kept before action. We won't know for sure till man wakes."

"Does Biran think visitor is really from another world?"

"Elder does not know, but Biran is sure of it," he slammed his fist onto his chest.

"What does Elder wait for?"

"Do not know," Biran shook his head resolutely, "but Biran trust Elder with life!"

"...Why did foreigner come?" Yenke asked quietly. "Mountain foresee his coming?"

Biran stilled himself.

Then, the sudden squeals of a chocobo instantly captured the attention of the pair. Below their feet on the enormous stone gate to the Ronso village was the path that led to Spira. The rising hill, and snowed path were a pair of shivering travels who were anything but quiet. It was a chocobo and it's messenger rider.

"Calm down! Please!" Clasko hushed.

The chocobo would have none of it. It twaddled and twittered in its reins, shaking uncontrollably from the ice cold weather. Begrudgingly, Clasko lifted one of the two scarves from his neck and wrapped it all around the bird's neck. It was obvious to anyone and everyone that Clasko had surrendered nearly every bit of blankets and jackets for his feathery companion. His face was turning blue.

"GHWA!" the earth shook and moaned under Yenke's feet after he leapt off the gate. He crash landed in front of the visitors. "Why come here!" Yenke roared. "Who comes to Gagazet!"

Clasko leapt back in surprise, nearly collapsing under his legs. The chocobo at his side, being a far too loyal steed, guarded him defensively. "I... I-I'm Clasko! Clasko of Djose. I'm apart of the Chocobo Riders!"

Biran looked to the mountain peak, enraged by the many visits of humans lately. He sought answers that Gagazet would not give. Unlike Yenke before him, Biran made sure not to show off his muscle prowess. Humans were too easily frightened! He slipped off the gate leisurely as Yenke snorted to the man.

"What's Clasko from Djose's business?" Yenke asked with a quirk of his ear.

The frightened terror on the human's face simmered. "W-where can I find the Maester Kelk?"

Biran stalked down the trail proudly and took his place beside Yenke. "Why see Elder?"

"I have urgent news from Bevelle for the Maester. He has to see this immediately," Clasko unveiled a parcel behind his chest armor. "It's from a guardian of Lord Braska's daughter. He said he had to get the news to Kimahri and the Maester as quickly as possible! The Lord Braska and Maester Jyscal are dead!"

Yenke nearly tripped on his feet and Biran had halted in place. His breathing hitched, but then it was like a whip snapped at his back to inspire movement.

Biran jolted forward, "I take you at once!"

Yenke dropped his shoulders, incapable of grasping the news. "Dead?"

.

Kimahri sat on the piles of hide strewn all across his floor, simply sharpening his lance. The repetitive scraping between the course rock and steel coupled with the fire was lulling his ears as did Tidus' light snoring. Tidus' skin color had finally returned, outside of being a bit pale from the cold.

Abruptly, a young Ronso only the size of a man pulled the fastened coverings of the tent and poked his head inside. "Kimahri! Kimahri! Elder wants you immediately! Letter from Bevelle! Quick!"

The name Bevelle struck a hopeful nerve in Kimahri. Before leaving, Kimahri shot a look of concern and impatience toward the sleeping blond. He'd hoped Tidus had woken up by now.

Resigned, he left.

.

Inside the grand cove that belonged to none other than Kelk, Kimahri handled the parcel gently but reading the words was too much to ask as he solemnly stared at the foreign writing.

Knowing full well Kimahri couldn't read, Kelk's voice filled the room. "It's asking you to return to Bevelle to continue your guardianship. But Kimahri…I'm afraid I must tell you that Lord Braska was assassinated some time ago during a speech regarding Lord Jyscal's death. I needn't tell you this has changed things."

Kimahri shot his chin up. His right hand unknowingly clenched the paper that was addressed to him, his eyes wide.

"Mr. Darrow _was_ an ordinary man after all," Kelk nostalgically whispered.

Kimahri was unmoving after that point. His mind quickly shifted to Yuna and her well-being, though he hadn't voiced his questions or concerns out loud. The handwriting was obviously Wakka's, given the peculiar curves of commas. The sound of Elder Kelk's slight snarl at the ceiling retrieved his attention back.

Nearing forty years of age, Kelk's black mane was starting to lose its luster.

Standing at ten feet and his horn by one, Kelk Ronso was the epitome of what a Ronso should be, and what that was, was what Kimahri wasn't. Kelk was educated and spoke eloquently. He was tall, and had one have the sharpest horns in the clan. He was known for his heroics and skill, and never allowed a human to order him around. Most importantly, Kelk was wise and hot-blooded if need be.

But Kimahri Ronso was the shortest Ronso in the entire clan, coming at only seven feet. Kimahri hardly spoke, so much so, he was often mistaken as a mute and very unlike the rest of his kind, he was slow to anger. Worst of all, Kimahri's horn was snapped off his forehead, and it was nothing but a hideous stub.

The only similarity between Kelk and Kimahri were the blue hues their fur and K's in their name.

It was then Kimahri frowned at the mayhem Spira had once again been thrown into.

"I've learned that the Guado has completely shut all lines of communication with anyone in Guadosalam. I pray their foolishness is over once they name a Guado Maester. They give not a damn about Jyscal's wishes," Kelk huffed. "Grand Maester Mika is most likely unconcerned with the '_petty squabbling'_ between the nations. Things are even worse now, now that Darrow's gone. Although I do not wish such a fate on her, Spira cannot wait for Yuna to take his place…" Kelk commented sadly.

Kimahri didn't react much other than send his eyes to the corner of tent.

"Then there's the blond man to consider…" Kelk shook his tail. "He hasn't woken yet has he?"

Kimahri's chin disappeared under his nose from his leader's point of view.

"…Yevon's taken a shining on you. Not only had you saved Lord Braska back when he was a summoner, but now a possible citizen of a fabled city…" Kimahri ruffled his cheeks, had he no fur it would've revealed a frown.

"You might make it to Bevelle in time to see her become a summoner if you leave tonight. Protect her well…" He rose from his kneel when Kelk stole his wit. "…but take the Zanarkand boy with you, conscious or not," he said sternly, almost heatedly. "Keep him at your side."

Kimahri didn't understand, and it must've been explicit in the air somehow. It would mean he'd accompany Yuna's pilgrimage, and surely Kelk wasn't suggesting it.

"High Summoner Braska and Sir Auron would've wanted it that way."

The use of their titles was done on purpose to guilt-stricken him. It worked wonders given to the sudden slump in his spine and the deflated spirit in his tail. They both died years too early, and Kimahri was reminded that the same could happen to his summoner.

"Do me one last favor... tell the other Ronso what has happened in Bevelle. Have Biran start the memorial…"

Kimahri shut his eyes tight, and his nostrils flared, unable to comprehend Spira's hero's death. A slight nod evoked it all.

.

**Kimahri's Den**

Clasko huddled close to the fire as he inspected his scuffed armor and thin clothes. Glancing over to the unconscious man nearby, Clasko couldn't help but admire the shoes Tidus wore and the armlet on his left arm. His whole attire was quality-made but he didn't have any sort of winter clothes on. Clasko made his confusion audible with whines and hums. Why in the world would such a guy travel to Mt. Gagazet?

Clasko turned back to the fire and sighed. "I hate coming to Mt. Gagazet. I better leave before the chocobo gets too cold."

Suddenly, the man groaned wearily and Clasko's low spirits brightened. At least now, he wouldn't feel alone.

Tidus blinked.

"Oh, you're awake?" he smiled.

Tidus achingly sat up, slow at first, then his arms trembled as though his weight was a struggle to lift.

"Um, yeah-mmeeg..." he whined like a groggily kid as he rubbed his face, which felt close to frozen. Tidus doubted that'd he get any feeling back anytime soon. He cheeks felt dead. Pulling his hands away from his face, he took a good look around.

He was in a tent that seemed as if it were built for giants. Spears and lances hung up on the wall at least twice his size. His eyes traveled to the floor to see he was on top of hundreds of pelts and hides that spread all across the cozy space. This was how he imagined the barbarians lived thousands upon thousands of years ago.

It was definitely otherworldly compared to the machina dependent Zanarkand. He couldn't wait until back home after his adventure here.

But once Tidus caught sight of over Clasko, he didn't understand why everything was so huge. Clasko was just as tall as he was... something about all this just didn't fit. Tidus was positive he had the "deer-caught-in-headlights" look on him. The skinny man with peasant armor and clothes certainly couldn't, didn't belong here. With the pelts on the floor, wouldn't he make a fur coat or at least a cloak instead?

"I'm Clasko!"

"Did you save me?" His voice was soft and hoarse from lack of use.

The immediate frown on his face was more than enough to answer the question. "Save you? Oh no, I just got here. You've been lying in this tent the whole time. I just came in here to warm up before I go back to the rest of Spira to deliver more messages. One of the Ronso probably saved you."

"Ronso?"

"Yeah. Maybe it was Kimahri. Of all of 'em, he's the only one that doesn't mind us. He's the least scary. You're really lucky! If it was one of the other Ronso who found you, they'd probably leave you to die...-" Clasko stopped himself from continuing even if he was convinced that statement was completely true.

He was sure that most Ronso were beasts but somehow, High Summoner Braska's assassination brought on a very real cloud over his emotions.

Tidus was still hung up on the word he didn't know and frankly had no idea Clasko was in the middle of an internal moral dilemma. In fact, he downright tuned Clasko out the second he got his answer. He was much more concerned with the throbbing of his brain. He gave himself a once over for any oddities. His legs still worked, he had all his fingers... about the only thing Tidus knew was off right off the bat was the immense hunger pains.

Clasko frowned and lowered his head in shame. Lord Braska would frown on him for acting so cruelly! "Forgive me. So, what brought you here to the Ronso village-?"

Tidus' voice overlapped his, and the hint of pain in his voice went unnoticed by Clasko. "What's a Ronso?"

That one question made Clasko forget everything. He stiffened at first, deciphering the sincerity in the stranger's face. "Y-you mean it?"

"Hnm?"

"You... don't know?" Clasko leaned over his legs anxiously.

Tidus furrowed his eyebrows in reaction to the outlandish look the guy across him was giving. He responded as dumbly as Clasko did, "Why would I ask if I didn't know?"

"You mean you came to Mt. Gagazet and you don't know what a Ronso is?" Clasko excitedly asked with a genuine smile. He seemed more awed than surprised.

"Mt. Gagazet?" The word "Gagazet" brought a massive flash to his eyes and a vein rattled with a loud '_thump_' on his temple. Tidus brought his hand to head, "My head hurts..."

"Wow! Oh-hey!-maybe you have amnesia. No matter where you're from, I'm sure you've seen at least one Ronso before. What's your name?"

It was a simple enough of a question, but Tidus eyed him for a moment. His fingers were woven in his hair, sheepishly reminding himself that giving his real name wouldn't reveal where he was from. "...it's Tidus. Clasko, right?"

"Clasko of the Djose stationed Chocobo Messengers! I came delivering a letter to the leader, Elder Kelk. What about you?"

Tidus ignored the question. "We're on Mt. Gagazet?"

"Yeah... we're in the Ronso village. Don't you remember anything?"

Tidus escaped any eye contact, and lied through his teeth, "I guess not!" he added an awkward laugh at the end.

"The Valley of the Ronso is the only known Ronso village in all of Spira. We're pretty close to the Calm Lands. I'm gonna leave in a few minutes, you should join me. It's gonna do you no good staying here! You need to see a doctor."

"I'm fine," Tidus said, "just a little dizzy. No need for any of that!" he shook his hands. "So, I take it this isn't your hut then?"

"I can't stand the cold. I don't really have a place... I travel from place to place. I'm just your friendly postman!" Clasko smiled, albeit none too happily.

Tidus smirked. A thousand years apart and still their worlds weren't very different. The pain of his torso and his headache had passed, and he was extremely grateful to finally have a conversation with someone. He had spoken to another since Auron abandoned him. Tidus then frowned, remembering the monk.

"Um... do you know about a man named Auron? Six feet, sunglasses-...?" He didn't know how to continue but luckily he didn't need to go further before Clasko filled the silence.

"Of course! Everyone knows Sir Auron. He's legendary. He was Lord Braska's one and only guardian."

Tidus smothered his scoff into a light laugh. Sir Auron? Legendary? Tidus nearly laughed out of pure amazement. It was the solidifying eureka moment when he realized he really made it to Spira on his own! In Auron's face!

"Yeah! Where's—" he started only to be cut off.

"It's a shame they're no longer with us," Clasko finished his sentiment. He hadn't heard Tidus attempted to speak and inadvertently nuked all the joy in the room.

"Wh-? Ah-" The hope he had left him just as quickly as a popcorn kernel popping. Tidus tightened his eyebrows sharply. Trying to keep his wits end to together, it took him seconds to recompose himself from making those weird noises. "Wait! What do you mean not with us!"

"You didn't hear? High Summoner Braska was assassinated. It's kinda scary, the most celebrated and loved hero of his time died of an assassination? I'm sure if Sir Auron hadn't passed on already, Lord Braska would still be alive."

"Auron **_died_**?" Tidus asked indignantly and shook his head, "Wait! Are you sure? When!"

"...ten years ago," Clasko answered haphazardly, he gawked strangely at Tidus.

"_Auron_?" he asked for desperate clarification. "Auron died ten years ago?"

Clasko's eyes flickered to the left nervously. "_Gee, that must be a bad case of amnesia_." It baffled him to realize that Tidus was more concerned about a decade-old death than the more recent tragedy.

"Tha-that's not-" Tidus cut himself off short with his eyes widening, unconsciously forming his fists. 'Dammit Auron! People think you're dead?'

They should've seen Auron pass by here, and if Auron was as famous as Clasko said he was then news should've spread like wildfire. That only led to one conclusion and that was that Auron was incognito. He didn't want people to know he was alive and that led to one outstanding problem: there was no hope to attempt to find him.

"And… Braska too?"

"...just a week ago, yes."

His situation only worsened. It was the fact that his only mission once he arrived in Spira, the only thing Auron told him to do, was now impossible. How could he seek the help of a person who was dead?

His jaw hung.

"Tidus?"

Tidus shot up and angrily paced. "Shit!" he shouted. Where he'd normally refrain from cursing outside of the word 'damn,' nothing else seemed to be better placed.

"What's wrong?" Clasko asked immediately. "Did something I said upset you?"

"Damn it!" He spoke faster than a prized auctioneer, "What the hell! Why does everything happen in the worst possible! Auron told me to find Braska as soon as possible and now he's dead? Who the heck am I supposed to go to now! Not only is Auron gone, but Braska too? What the heck am I supposed to do! I fly for hours on end and I somehow end up crashing in the middle of nowhere and my hover board was shattered into a million pieces just to get to Spira and now this!" Tidus continued the rant passionately and gestured like he was directing an aircraft for landing before busting an accusative fist near his chest, "I'm sure Auron didn't think of that! Damn him! Leaving me to die? He's gonna pay! What the hell was I thinking! _Oh, take "ME" to Spira Auron, I'll be mighty thankful!_ Damn it. Damn it-damn it! What was he thinking letting me come here alone? I know you're alive Auron! That no-good drunk of a senior schizo-geezer! I'll punch his lights out the second I see his face!"

Clasko's face twisted. "Huh?" He laughed nervously then fidgeted with the back of his neck, "Could you repeat that again? I didn't catch it all."

Tidus comically belly-flopped onto the pelt-littered floor, briefly humoring himself with the thought that this tent he was in was just one huge mattress, and let out a giant muffled groan. Auron was long gone. Braska was gone... who else was he supposed to turn to? Tidus' eyebrows knitted in hopelessness even if his outburst let out a lot of his pent frustration.

He turned his face over to free his mouth from the furs and spoke defeated manner, "I thought things were supposed to get _easier_ when I got here…"

Without a single clue how to help, Clasko bit his lip. Although, he had to admit, his mood had strangely brightened thanks to Tidus' show. He felt partially guilty that he became happier in seeing Tidus' amusing demonstration of his frustrations, so his frown never vanished. Little did Clasko know, Tidus felt his mood lift as well.

A loud gurgling of his stomach cut in and made Tidus frown heavily. "Great..."

He was starting to think he never should've left home.

.

The Ronso outside Kimahri's massive hut had gathered at the height of the valley to Lord Braska's statue and all at once a booming lullaby echoed throughout the snow-fogged valley. The immense number of individuals singing was astounding and brought a very real emotion in all who heard it.

Tidus sat up upon hearing it, turning his head toward the sound. "Hm?"

Clasko's expression changed at soon as he heard it too. He lowered his head in a response and the sunken eyes darkened.

"What's going on?"

"The Ronso are paying their respects for Lord Braska. They're singing the Hymn of the Fayth for him. Lord Braska was loved by the Ronso. His death is a terrible loss," he stood up and prayed. It seemed more like a threnody than a hymn. "But I have no doubt his daughter will follow his footsteps. A lot of people think she's going to be one's of the world's greatest Summoners Spira's seen."

Tidus quirked an eyebrow. "Daughter?"

Clasko nodded and smiled, "She's going to make Spira proud. I met her once you know," he bragged casually as people often do. His chin proudly lifted in the air.

If Tidus couldn't find Braska like Auron said then maybe his daughter was the next best thing?

"Yeah? What's she like?" Tidus prodded.

Clasko hadn't counted on the incredibly curious expression on Tidus at the mere mention of Yuna and now fiddled with his fingers. "Well, I... uh, didn't really get to talk to her..." Clasko stuttered and laughed. He quickly received an unamused and soured glare from the Tidus. "I guess I shouldn't have said that I literally _met _her. I was in the same room as her for a good while, but I was just a lowly guard back then. I couldn't go up to talk to her. It was a long time ago. All I remember was that she had the most amazing smiles I've ever seen..." Clasko sighed like he was in love.

Tidus hadn't expected that and looked on the man in surprise. That was not at all what he was asking for. "Do you at least know where I can find her?"

Clasko seemed disappointed that Tidus couldn't remember such an obvious thing. "Don't remember that either? She's in Bevelle. If you want to meet her, you better get there fast. She'll be leaving on a pilgrimage soon. Once she leaves, you'd be lucky if you _ever_ even see a glimpse of her."

"A pilgrimage?"

"Yeah... all around Spira. I wonder if I'll ever see her again. I hope I do, at least one more time at least so I can say I met her for real. One day, she's gonna have her own statue in every temple around Spira! I just know it!" he admitted.

At this point, Tidus had felt a prick of annoyance from Clasko's behavior. He seemed like he expected Braska's daughter to be his spitting image, and was expected to be greater than her dad ever was. The colossal pressure that Spira placed onto this girl felt irritatingly familiar to the expectations set on his shoulders all his life in Zanarkand.

Holding his feelings well-bottled, he nibbled on the insides of his cheeks. Even a thousand years of difference couldn't change such lousy traditions. A child will always be compared to the parents.

"So... what's her name?"

Clasko slowly brought his hand over his chin, and rubbed it like he had an itch. "I know her as Miss Darrow, daughter of High Summoner Braska Darrow." Clasko smiled awkwardly, "I don't know her first name."

"_He doesn't even know her name_?" Tidus remarked in his mind darkly.

The singing outside didn't last long. It once again grew quiet, and the only sound was that of the wind. Clasko picked up a yellow scarf by his feet, and slung it around his torso like a strap of a messenger bag. "I really should get going. I hope the blizzard isn't picking up. You really should leave as soon as possible too. My offer still stands."

Tidus also stood and straightened his clothes and he didn't fail to notice the very stark differences between himself and the messenger boy. Clasko appeared to be a character sucked out from a fantasy novel as the peasant knave. His hair was cut into a premature bowl-cut. His face had feminine features and sunken eyes. About the only truly impressive thing about him were his scalded armor leggings. His shins were covered in metal guards, his knees were capped and it all seemed to be an extension of his boots. It was almost an equivalent to a Blitzer's armlet, only for the legs.

Tidus could already predict that he would stick out of a crowd and he hadn't even seen another soul yet. Everything about Tidus screamed that he was a person with means which was far from the truth. His hair had an obvious natural shine, and his clothes didn't have a single tear or blemish. The water-proof pants only heightened someone's perceptions of his superiority, given the sight of the heavy material. The armlet on his left arm was made of high grade metal. Even his hooded dress shirt appeared indestructible, but was it really Tidus' fault? He was a former professional ball player, and hover boarding in Zanarkand's rainy season and winds were murder on clothes. Most of the time, Tidus never bothered to button a thing, and that exposed a defined body hidden underneath a black shirt.

Clasko envied the man even more and lowered his gaze to floor. He swore he'd make more of himself and become a man worthy of being called a Sir, just like Tidus. The man standing before him could very well be a warrior, a young noble, or a prized blitz player... and Clasko could barely find a decent meal on his travels.

"…There's a blizzard going on?" Tidus' arm was filled with goose bumps.

The meek man nodded, "Mm... Yeah, the mountain has been getting colder and colder recently. Not sure what this means for Spira, could be a bad omen. I could help you down the mountain if you want. Two's better than one. The blizzard out there is getting worse by the day. Pretty soon, humans won't be able to stay or visit at all."

_._

_Humans?_

_._

"Hmh?" Tidus scrunched his face. "What...-?" he started with a smile.

But just then, Kimahri strode inside the dark tent, glancing at neither of the men. At the sight of him, Tidus grew wide-eyed and took a stunned step backward.

In front of his very eyes was a seven-foot, bipedal beast with a dark blue coat of fur. The thing that threw off him the most, was the broken horn planted at the thing's forehead. Tidus gawked like a clueless child. Kimahri however, gave him no attention and grabbed one of the many lances on the walls, not even a passing glance. It was as though they weren't even in the room.

Clasko nudged Tidus' arm and whispered very quietly, "He's Kimahri Ronso of the Ronso Northern tribe. He's the only one that doesn't think ill towards us."

Tidus blinked. Wasn't Kimahri the name of the guy who saved him? Tidus whispered back, "So Ronsos are...-"

"-hume tigers I guess would be the best way to put it. Kimahri doesn't like to talk much though."

"Are all of them that tall?" Tidus carried his whispers eagerly and little patience.

Clasko shook his head, "Kimahri's the shortest Ronso. The most of them are over eight or nine feet, and the tallest of all of them is Biran Ronso at ten feet."

Tidus smiled excitedly, "Wow."

Clasko stepped forward and ended his whisperings. "Sir Kimahri," he bowed, "I appreciate you allowing me to warm up in your hut. I'll be going now."

Even when the man had bowed to the behemoth, Kimahri still hadn't turned to look at them. Tidus' initial shock over seeing a Ronso for the first time was long gone after seeing Kimahri test the sharpness of one of his weapons against his fingers while paying Clasko no mind. He was so immersed in his tasks, it felt as though he was purposely ignoring them.

Tidus hid a mirthful smirk. Kimahri was just like Auron and just as rude. Spira fit Auron better than Zanarkand ever did.

Clasko didn't seem to mind, in fact he was happy as he lifted from his bow, "We heard the hymn. I'm sure High Summoner Braska heard it in the Farplane. I will be deeply humbled if you could listen to a request of mine."

One of Kimahri's ear twitched back right to Clasko's direction, surprising Tidus even further. So he was listening! He looked to the peasant man.

"I'd be honored if you could pay my respects to your summoner in Bevelle when you see her."

Tidus' icy blues flicked back to Clasko, the words 'Bevelle' and 'his summoner' stole the show. "Hn?"

Clasko whispered again, but this time placed a single hand over his mouth to direct his voice so only Tidus could hear, "Kimahri's summoner is Lord Braska's daughter. He's her guardian. He's heading for Bevelle tonight.."

Tidus' eyes were lit. The hopeless veil cast over him was discarded with his renewed determination. This was his only shot, he convinced himself. Kimahri was the only guy who could take him to his only hope and that confirmed Tidus' new mission: to find Braska's daughter. He gave Kimahri a heroic stare before he bolted forward, "Kimahri?"

Kimahri's interest sparked at the sound of an unknown voice. His golden eyes darted to its corners.

"You saved me, didn't you?"

Kimahri didn't say anything. It was starting to give Tidus the idea that the big beast was a mute, but he didn't falter. He was more than confident that Kimahri understood everything he said.

He persisted, "I want to thank you but I have a favor to ask. I can't take no as an answer."

Clasko cringed inwardly. Tidus knew no manners apparently and it worried his inner workings which had been beaten by guards and bandits alike for not showing 'proper' respect. It was one thing to thrash a peasant, but Tidus was still recovering from his close brush with death. For Yevon's sake, his new friend had amnesia. "Tidus," he warned in a frightful whisper.

Tidus didn't pay Clasko a penny of his attention. "I want to join you. I have to go to Bevelle with you."

Kimahri looked over his shoulder to finally glare down at the hume he had saved.

He stalked toward them, then curtly grasped the hooded end of Tidus' shirt and lifted him off the ground with one arm, much too quickly for Tidus to react properly. One second he was on the floor, and the other he was jerk forward and hanging in his paws.

"Ah hey!" he squeaked.

Kimahri inspected that human's face with a soft glare. He was almost inexpressive, even with Tidus kicking around like a lion cub in his mother's mouth.

Tidus grit in his teeth as he tried to pull himself up onto the Ronso's forearms. It was like holding onto iron beams covered in fleece. "Wh-?" he grunted.

Tightening every little muscle in his nose, Kimahri growled deep in his throat to silence him. Instead of expressing surprise, the white patches above his eyes curled down vividly with the fact that a blond haired man had not green eyes, but blue. His claws dug into the creases of Tidus' shirt. The pupils were round.

Kimahri's intense face softened. He was a genetic lottery in Spiran standards.

Tidus' frustrated curve of his brow and restlessness in his grip also aroused peculiarity. The Ronso didn't forget himself, deciding to fasten his cheeks and whiskers in a display of mild disdain, even if it was all for show. Truth be told, Kimahri felt none of the bitterness Biran did nor did he assume that the boy meant any harm to anyone. If it meant obeying the wishes of Elder Kelk, Lord Braska, and Sir Auron, Kimahri would shoulder on dutifully.

He exhaled forcefully through his black nose and flared the nostrils in a huff.

Kimahri lowered the man safely back to the ground, and roughly let go, then nodded once and placed his hand on top of Tidus' skull. His entire paw hid all of the boy's hair, and Clasko grew wide-eyed.

So, Kimahri left, heading for the exit once again without uttering a single word. The second the decorative wings hung on the tiger's shoulders disappeared from behind the cloth door, Tidus nearly blew up to rant.

Clasko was stupefied. "He accepted...?" He started laughing, "I thought you were going get killed."

Tidus' eyes bolted straight to him, "Are you kidding…That was a good thing?" Tidus held his hand over his sore chest. "Man! He could pick up a mountain!"

.

Kimahri exited the tent into the foggy Ronso village. The wind was sharp and whistled violently. Without needing to look to his left, he was aware of Biran resting against his tent post.

"Human pet," Biran whispered his greeting. His voice held no anger, and in fact was incredibly calm much like Kelk's own mannerism. Nonetheless, Kimahri's eyes narrowed at the nickname. "Protect your owner…" Biran halted and embraced his correction, "your summoner well… Be proud Kimahri Ronso! Defend the Darrow with your life!"

Kimahri shut his jaw tightly.

"If Kimahri dishonor his Ronso name, Biran will tear you asunder!" he clenched his fist and pointed his horn high in the sky.

In spite of it, Kimahri agreed.

.

**Bevelle**

Yuna carefully stepped out to the garden, careful to not alert a soul of her presence. An otherwise guilty smile happened upon her face. She wasn't royalty by any means. No, she was just a politician's daughter, but one lost perspective of that if one just sat in front of her home to see crowds of people begging to see her face.

The grass crunched with a noise with her every step which was nothing compared to the screams of the paparazzi at her front door. They shouted her name, asking to come in. The rude knocks that rapped at her door were met by Wakka's muffled denials of entrance. Nine reporters were at her door that very moment playing the waiting game. Earlier in the day, the number was twice that. It seemed like they were taking shifts.

Unfortunately for them, Yuna had not once been caught on camera. She was sure that just her picture was worth fifty thousand gil by now.

It would safely remain that way if she stayed in her room until the day she became a summoner, but the last thing Yuna wanted was to be restricted to her home.

She leapt over the veranda and past the courtyard, and poof.

Somehow Yuna was already strolling down the street, out of her house and the reporters and her guardians were none the wiser. Her eyes were scanning actively for any sight of a blond-haired person, eager to find an Al Bhed with Rikku's messages once again.

The peaceful Bevelle streets were full with people, most of whom wearing nobleman attire. The inner city of Bevelle was open only to citizens, the privileged, though not all of them were rich. The outer city was her true destination. Yuna slowed her steps at the sound of a loud trio of men down the corner

Her knee-length boots pat softly on the cobblestone. Her features pinched. They were blocking the only way to the outer city check point for three miles. Immediately, she turned.

"Has anyone gotten a glimpse of Lady Yuna yet?" said an amateur who accidentally broke his sphere camera. He nearly went ape when he then snapped off its lens. He groaned pitifully.

"Of course not. She's as scarce as Mika is," chortled a senior.

"That's _Maester_ Mika!" one of them barked.

Yuna nabbed a large white sun hat from a flower cart right beside her. Biting her lip, Yuna fixed it on seemingly as casually as a woman would on a shopping spree. She tugged down one of the sides, hiding her face from the men just some feet away.

Yuna quietly looked for the owner of the stand, who was a bored woman with spinster hair.

"How much for this?" she smiled. The sun hat's rims flopped around her shoulders.

"Oh, a buyer! Um, could I say um… just fifty gil?" she timidly asked, fearful of a refusal.

Yuna agreed generously to the surprise of the older woman, "Of course."

"Oh thank you, my lady!"

Yuna reached for the paper in her belt and paid, placing it sweetly in her hands, but then the older woman unexpectedly held her hands to shake it as if she were an angel. It struck Yuna suddenly, this woman was dirt-broke. Fifty gil was enough for food for a week. Yuna fought a frown from ever showing. Yuna smiled as dearly as she could to ease the woman's pain.

"No, trust me. This is helping me more than you know," Yuna said softly as she squeezed her hand back.

She pulled away once she found the elderly return a much gentler smile. As inconspicuously as she could with her new sun hat, Yuna made down the street, pulling down the left side of her hat to hide the side of her face.

"I don't see how in the world the chief expects us to find Lady Yuna, or any of the Maesters… the nobles, Lord Seymour, anyone at all in Bevelle. There's what? At least six hundred thousand people in Bevelle? And we're supposed to find just a special handful?"

"Yeah… I doubt we'll even find anyone of them walking down Main Street one day…"

Yuna withheld a blush. Her hand gripped on the side tighter. If only they knew.

.

Auron sat in the pew, laying his hands on top of the prayer-cushions. He lowered his forehead into his pressed fingers, the bridge of the nose resting against his joined thumbs.

The Ceylatrul hadn't changed at all, Auron closed his eyes mid-prayer.

.

The town square, Yuna frowned. It looked as filled as usual. Though, Yuna was just grateful no one recognized her so far. She supposed her father's particular coddling was thanks to that.

She felt someone tugging on her skirt. "S'cuse me… do you know the time?"

"The time? Why yes, it's nearly noon," Yuna quirked her head to the side when the girl's eyes grew.

"That's a lovely hat, my lady," a girl complimented, she couldn't be no older than ten.

Yuna smiled as she kneeled down to meet her height and the paparazzi were long behind her. "You think so?"

"I like the flowers."

"I just got it today," Yuna lifted off the white sun hat from her hair, and placed it on the girl's head. "I've barely worn it."

"Wow, it's really floppy," she giggled. The meticulous care she had for the headwear only made this easier.

"You can keep if you like."

She gasped scandalously, "Oh no, I couldn't! I couldn't take this from you."

"I insist. Besides," Yuna smiled as she fit it better on her head, "it looks better on you," Yuna perked the coupled flowers on the side.

Suddenly, she found herself being hugged tightly. "Oh!" She'd never been hugged by a stranger before.

"Thank you! Thank you! I want to show mom right now! Bye!"

Yuna didn't say farewell with words, but rather a slight wave of the hand. Standing up, Yuna found her destination just a stone's throw away, Yevon's Ceylatrul.

Inside the very place was where she could see her father's face again in the form of his statue.

As usual, the main hall was occupied with more than enough civilians praying to the fayth and Yevon. Yuna discretely smiled at the sight of her father.

Her father's funeral was a public affair. Nearly all of Bevelle attended, and they crowded the streets to such a degree that the street couldn't be seen. Yuna was forced to not participate in the funeral as the Maesters feared for her life. She got a personal letter from Kinoc saying so, but she received some comfort knowing that Wakka was one of the pallbearers. Lord Seymour, despite relinquishing his title as a summoner, performed the sending to honor both their fathers.

Braska once told Yuna that things normal people are blessed with, things that are expected in a normal life, are sometimes not an option for a summoner which Yuna long knew and accepted. Being able to properly say goodbye to her father at his funeral was one of them, and so it was put on hold, hence her visit to the temple that day.

Unfortunately, Yuna couldn't stay long.

The second piece of bad news was that her entrance to the temple didn't go quite as unnoticed as she hoped it would've been, catching the attention of a former warrior-monk down the hall.

Auron watched her with keen interest. At first, he had to wonder if this girl truly was the daughter of Braska Darrow or a mere look-alike. But the doubt washed away at the woman's intent gaze at Braska's statue, the mousey brown hair, the beaded earring with a blue feather, and the silver necklace over the ends of her collarbone. What sealed the deal was a Ronso band on her left wrist. Undoubtedly, it was a gift from Kimahri.

Auron looked away as if she was nothing but a stranger. He shook his head chidingly, though. Yuna would always stand out of the crowd.

She walked down the aisle with her hand streaming the side of a limestone pillar in reverence, but the further she walked down the pews, an undeniable feeling swept over her. Someone had spotted her. Her face didn't outright demonstrate the fear of being caught, but her eyes hurriedly glanced at every person in the hall as she paced to a halt.

She closed her eyes, perhaps in attempt to hide them.

Just beneath the sounds of the choir singing the hymn, the murmurs of prayers from the faithful, and the conversations between the monks was a pair was footsteps that could be barely heard.

The footsteps coming toward her were getting louder and closer, but oddly, she couldn't pinpoint where. She turned to face the doors she had entered not too long ago only to see no one. The slight fear turned to mere confusion. Already, she sensed that whoever this was didn't mean any harm, nor were they anxious to see her.

Auron walked down the aisle from behind but it seemed like he was making for the exit, unconcerned with the person to his right.

Yuna quickly turned her attention to the man that just past her. It was then made very obvious that his combat boots were the source of her hesitant alarm. Nonetheless, Yuna was sure that the man was looking at her moments before.

The muscles in her face bent, her interest piqued as she studied the man's back curiously, thrown off by his red garb.

She thought she was home free in a way, but then suddenly, the mysterious man stopped moving and didn't advance a single inch further as if he could feel her staring, burning a hold in his back. It didn't startle Yuna at all, but the same couldn't be said about her growing bafflement.

Yuna raised her eyebrows in surprise.

With his back facing her, he spoke, "I'm sorry for your lost."

Her lips parted at the statement. So… he had known who she was. And with a silver glint, she was just realizing that he was wearing sunglasses indoors. The aura surrounding him felt incredibly familiar. She knew him somehow.

Suspiciously, she tilted her head, "I appreciate it."

The man barely looked over to her, and finally, it clicked. He continued his leave down the pews, and toward the door.

"Auron?"

Her calling out his name stopped him. A moment passed and they were both silent. When Yuna took another step forward, Auron finally spoke, "...you've grown."

Yuna smiled, and she would've ran up to him had it not been for Auron content with not facing her. "You're back from Zanarkand?"

Auron visibly nodded despite the cowl.

"I'm glad."

"I take it you're not a summoner yet…"

"No. I will be though, if I pass that is."

"I'm sure you will," he said. He firmly believed it as fact as did almost everyone else in Spira.

"How was Zanarkand?"

"...Loud."

Yuna smirked.

"Do me a favor?" coolly, he looked over his shoulder showing her the full left side of his face. His good eye closed, "Don't tell anyone you saw me."

"You're not staying?" Yuna asked. Auron was still an enigmatic as ever, and still the only person she'd ever known to get away with leaving without an explanation. "I thought you were fulfilling a promise," Yuna lilted.

"I don't recall civilians needing a guardian."

"Hn," she murmured quietly in agreement, her lips curved. "I guess you're right."

"We'll meet again." The emotionless persona broke when Auron gave a departing glance at Braska's statue. Anyone could feel the guilt or sadness venting from his face.

Yuna lowered her eyes to the floor. She couldn't imagine Auron's feelings then. Auron was too late to see Braska alive and way too late to have saved him.

Auron left the cathedral and the sonorous thud that sounded as he shut the doors echoed nicely with the Hymn of the Fayth.

She stood still for a moment, telling herself how he changed. His hair was peppered, and his sunglasses were new. His presence alone held a prestigious air to him, but he was still the same gloomy man she knew, quiet in his words. His combat weaponry was concealed to the tee, and he still looked like the general he once was. She was sure she'd fine a number of daggers in his armguard alone, and even more in his belt. His red coat was still as bright as it was when he had earned it. Though, his beloved katana wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Braska, she was sure of, would've loved nothing more than to have seen him once again.

Looking up at the door, Yuna realized she had so many questions to ask him, so many things to say. She chased after him. As soon as she was outside, she stopped to scan all around the busy marketplace at the top of the stairs, but there wasn't a trace of him.

Yuna frowned.

.

**The Darrow Villa**

Clunk!

Wakka locked the many locks on the door, murmuring angrily under his breath. Huddles of men and women could be sparsely seen leaving through the peephole. "No good reporters."

Lulu walked down the stairs, "How many so far?"

"I lost count," Wakka sighed. He leaned against the door like a crutch, his back pressed against the knob. "I'm starting to miss Besaid. Since when did sphere news become so important? Geez! They stake out her house just for photo of her? What's the world comin' to?"

"Yuna told me about the reporters. They normally left her alone, but ever since her father died they've been begging for an interview, an appearance, anything they could get their hands on. At first, it impressed me how quickly they could spread news world-wide, but things have gotten out of hand. Simply spreading news about world events wasn't enough, now they want human-interest pieces."

Wakka shut his eyes tiredly. "Has Yuna been caught yet?"

"Not that I've seen. She's very good at giving people the slip, I've noticed," Lulu whispered. "I guess we have to thank Rikku for that."

"We gotta get her outta here as soon as possible, ya? They'll probably use her as an excuse to start another war. And things were already so hostile with Al Bhed…"

"It can't be helped. Lord Braska was killed with a machina weapon. It makes sense for people to assume he was killed by them. About the best thing we can do is to make sure we take Yuna out of Bevelle as soon as possible and wait for things to cool down."

Wakka kept peering through the blinds for any of the paparazzi. After the incident of seeing one of them attempted lay low at the window pane for the chance to take pictures inside, he was taking no chances.

"We can't exactly do that until she becomes a summoner," Wakka muttered. He looked over his shoulder, and gave her a firm nod that it was all clear. "Where is Yuna anyway?"

"She's been gone all day."

"_Again_?"

Lulu gave a sharp nod. "Rikku was more of an influence than we thought."

Wakka deflated. "You'd think she know better! What if she gets targeted too?"

"You know her… when she's made up her mind for something, nothing can stop her. I can't blame her. Cid or Rikku could have an urgent message for her. I don't think Yuna could handle the chance that another Al Bhed thrown in jail when he was looking for her."

"You think something happened with the Al Bhed?"

"It's a possibility…" Lulu looked to the window. "I'm sure Yuna's worried about them, even if she won't admit. Besides, I think her escaping this house is her some good. It's keeps her mind off of her father."

"Why can't I just look for them instead? No one cares who the hell I am, and no one's going to be gunning for me-"

"But it's not you who they're looking for. And let's face it Wakka, you can't exactly spot an Al Bhed as well as she could. You didn't know Rikku was one for six years." Wakka harrumphed. "No less, you've never done it before. Yuna has."

"Why can't Al Bhed just believe in Yevon? Things wouldn't be nearly as hard if they did."

"Wakka, it's the principle of that matter," Lulu chided. Catching a faint glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger, Lulu's pressing headache had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. "…I don't why I said yes."

Wakka feigned insult.

Just then, a sliding door skimmed against its well-oiled tracks with a creak.

Lulu and Wakka looked over to the screen just in time to see Yuna slip in through the back door with a somewhat innocent smile on her face. Wakka glared evilly at her angelic eyes.

"And speak of the devil," Wakka joked, getting a slight glare from Yuna.

"Nothing?" Lulu asked knowingly.

Yuna shook her head sadly. "There's no Al Bhed at all... If any one of them has a message, I don't know how I'll get it."

"Did anything else happen?" Wakka asked.

Yuna was well aware that Wakka was mostly just asking if anyone of the reporters had seen her or if she gotten into any trouble, but her memory flashed to her run-in with Auron, a man who hadn't been seen in Spira for the last decade.

_"Don't tell anyone you saw me."_

The girl's eyes darted over to some unimportant plant on the shelf. "No…" Yuna replied, "Nothing happened…"

Wakka fortunately taken everything she said to heart. "The Al Bhed are a resilient bunch, ya? If they had a message for you, they'd find a way."

"Not to mention," Lulu interjected, "Kimahri should be here in a few more days."

Yuna brightened, "...Kimahri's coming?"

Wakka smiled, "Well, yeah! Who else is gonna take up the Ronso-mantle in our group?"

Yuna quirked her eyebrows as Lulu went to explain. "Wakka sent out a private messenger to Mt. Gagazet the day your father died. It's been awhile, but I'm sure Kimahri will be here in time for your trials."

"You guys managed to get a messenger? How?" the shock that coursed her system pleased Wakka to a great extent.

Wakka puffed, "Hmh, it wasn't easy. Bevelle has some sort of check point freeze that prevents people from leaving and entering the inner city walls after an incident like that, but I managed to get an ex-crusader man just outside Bevelle's checking gates to do it. He was happy to do it when he found out how urgent it was."

Lulu breathed, "I'm sure if you would've contacted one of the higher ups, they would've excused one letter for _Lord Braska's_ daughter."

The phrase hit Yuna like a sack of bricks. Outwardly, she was at ease, even twiddling with the tassel of string at her hips. However, Wakka and Lu lost her in the conversation by that point.

It wasn't until they began to argue did it reform her abandoned attention. Yuna sighed, exasperated in the outcome of their short-lived moments. Wakka and Lulu fought almost at the end of every conversation they ever had, and it was something she doubted would ever change. But since they've been here, Yuna had lost count how many times she'd accidentally walked in on them kissing, thinking they were alone. She also lost count how many times she'd quietly retraced her steps back to other room.

Yuna now remembered why she was initially surprised when they became a couple. She smiled tiredly. They were harder to keep up with than Rikku.

.

**End Chapter 2**

**.**

* * *

**Author Notes**: Next chapter, Tidus and Yuna will finally meet and with that, I'd like to wish you all a Happy New Year.


	4. Ch 3 Rarity

Music: Original FFX OST: Calm Lands (aka Yuna's Determination), Macalania Woods, and Braska's Daughter

**Author Notes:** In terms of updating, I'll be hitting two, three or even four week intervals between chapters depending on reception. I'd like to thank the people who have so far reviewed. I really appreciate your input.

Review Response: Wachata - I was charmed into it after a while. I'd be lying if their marriage and the baby didn't catch me by surprise, though...

So this is it! In the last Bevelle section, the protagonists finally meet.

I hope you enjoy. :D

* * *

_Previously in Chapter 2:_

Kimahri growled deep in his throat to silence him. Instead of expressing surprise, the white patches above his eyes curled down vividly with the fact that a blond haired man had not green eyes, but blue. His claws dug into the creases of Tidus' shirt. The pupils were round.

Kimahri's intense face softened. Tidus was a genetic lottery in Spiran standards.

.

"We gotta get Yuna outta here as soon as possible, ya? They'll probably use her as an excuse to start another war. And things were already so hostile with Al Bhed…"

"It can't be helped. Lord Braska was killed with a machina weapon."

.

**Ch.**** 3 - Rarity**

**.**

Clasko brushed his ankles to his parakeet steed's side, calming him to follow after Kimahri's distant figure. With a giant chicken and a bipedal tiger, Tidus finally just decided to along for the ride. He limited his burning questions, not wanting to break the façade of an amnesic teen. He only wished Clasko had another ostrich sized bird so he could literally _go along for the ride_.

Kimahri halted for a brief moment, and Tidus caught the glance Kimahri made over his shoulder before he continued up the path.

He reminded him of the one man Tidus wanted to punch. He never forgot the red warrior monk.

Hand Kimahri a red towel and shave the fur, people _will_ call him _Sir_ Auron.

Tidus made no attempt to hide his stare.

At first, Tidus wasn't sure if Kimahri was a mute, if Ronso were even capable of talking, or even if they were if it would be in a language Tidus could understand. That was of course before another Ronso made it perfectly clear.

Since that first day, he waited for a week for any words from Kimahri. He gave up three days ago.

Kimahri's tail curved at the sight of the growing view of the blue and crystallized trees with purple leaves. His morale fell given that he knew Yuna had to wait so long. The tiger's ears flopped slightly downward.

"Does Kimahri ever talk?"

"I wouldn't be surprised…"

The messenger for hire was fixated on the maps on lap. Markings of red and black marred the illustrations. Warnings and crossed out paths in his handwriting sprawled the entirety of certain regions, some more than others. Tidus' eyebrows fell straight over eyes. Clasko must've been around Spira at least ten times and back.

Djose, Luca, Mi'ihen, Mushroom Rock, Moonflow, Carre Shore, Guadosalam, Redwood Forest, Djose Dam, the Thunder Plains, Maca Tundra, Calm Lands, and Mt. Gagazet.

Bevelle.

He hadn't expected to be so interested in sneaking glances of the foreign proper names versus the blunt ones. All of Zanarkand, an island of 200 miles of skyscrapers, was just that: all Zanarkand. Sanctioned sections, essentially entire city blocks and neighborhoods, were only divided through letters and associated cardinal points on a compass.

However, the extensive notes, logs, detailed warnings on Clasko's maps made his eyes light up with laughter.

"Hey, Clasko, why'd become a messenger if you don't like dealing with the fiends… or _traveling_?" Tidus laced it morbidly.

"You can tell?" Clasko sighed, "After I was discharged from the Crusaders, I needed something to do to make money. The pay is good, and besides," Clasko inflated his chest, "I needed to get strong. I figured this would be a fast way to do that. So, I took the job."

"Strong?"

Clasko bit his lip, "I don't want to be dead weight again. You can't survive in Spira if you're weak, and I'm tired of being overlooked! I swear it, one day, I'll be someone!" he affirmed deeply, smacking a hand with a fist.

Tidus frowned, "Aren't you already someone?"

Clasko shook his head, "I need to be strong. At least until I get Captain Lucil and Elma to notice—"

"You like one of them?"

"It's more than that. I see them as my comrades, but they see me as the naïve younger brother. I'd like to be a hero…" Clasko was silenced by the mere presence of Macalania Woods herself.

Even Tidus felt it. The woods had a soul to it. Of course, unlike Clasko and Kimahri, Tidus was gawking at a sight he had never seen before.

Under Tidus' and Kimahri's feet was the dry, brown grass that slowly dwindled to nothing but an unkempt land of dirt. The Calm Lands were far behind now, and edging into the boundaries of Macalania Woods. The soil darkened with every foot.

Tidus looked to the sky that was now starting to be burdened with the blue treetops.

"Macalania Woods," Clasko supplied.

The whiskers on Kimahri's cheeks twitched. The ground dropped a few degrees. The snow-bound woods shivered the cushioned pads of Kimahri's paws.

"Wow," Tidus whispered. Kimahri's eyes immediately followed Tidus' wandering figure.

Tidus was at last hit with a startling slap of reality, and why Auron regarded Spira and Zanarkand as two different worlds instead of two different countries. About the only thing that hadn't changed between the two worlds were bodies of water and crickets.

The paths in the forest forked. Kimahri headed one way, but Clasko continued on another. Tidus stopped at the intersection.

"Kimahri, Tidus. I better get going." Clasko waved, still atop the chocobo. He pulled the reigns to the right so the chocobo would turn enough so he could face his companions.

Tidus walked up to the bird and grabbed its face down to pet its beak goodbye. He looked up at Clasko, "Where're you going now?" Right after he asked the question, he realized that no matter what answer Clasko gave, he wouldn't understand one bit. He even chuckled to himself, directing his eyes back to the chicken.

"I got to go Guadosalam. Maester Kelk has a few letters for the Guado over there. Best of luck to you Tidus on getting your memory back. Kimahri, I wish you well on you and your lady's pilgrimage..."

"Quit your job," Tidus smirked.

"Tidus... you mind doing me a favor?"

"Shoot."

"If you meet a person named Elma or Lucil, could you tell that I'm alright-...and that I got at least a little bit stronger?"

"Sure."

Clasko clicked his tongue, nudged the bird's yellow torso with the heels of his feet and Clasko rode off deep into the woods.

Tidus waved to his friend farewell but then awkwardly hid it behind his head.

He shot a glance up the sky to see things he could never see in Zanarkand's skies even when he was boarding. He'd give anything to have his lunar with him - if for nothing else but to end all the tiresome walking to every single place in Spira.

Kimahri walked down the road to Bevelle, leaving Tidus to memorize the forest.

If only Tidus looked to his feet, Tidus would've noticed the glass-like flowers by his shoe. Instead though, he paid more attention to Kimahri's lack of presence. After a minute or so of trying his best to memorize the scenery, he reluctantly followed after him, convinced that Kimahri would abandon him the first chance he got.

"Hey, wait—!"

Tidus ran after him, but when he turned down the bend, he saw Kimahri not far down the crooked narrow path. His arms were crossed as if he were patiently waiting for him.

The forest gave hint to the worn route leading to the capitol city of Spira.

.

**Bevelle**

The sphere news on the sphere screen only served as background. Yuna and her friends all huddled in kitchen were all unsure how to start the conversation.

_Reporter 1/Mediator:_ "It's been three weeks since the death of a nation's leader, and Guadosalam has still refused to open its doors to any non-Guado or opened a line communication. At this point and time, its been confirmed that they've yet to appoint a new Maester. What do you have to say?"

_Reporter 2:_ "When will the Guado name its next leader? Surely they've already nominated them! This shut out's done nothing but harm inter-racial relations."

_Reporter 3:_ "See it from their view. Maester Jyscal was trying to abolish segregation laws and build a trust between the Guados and Yevonites, and Lord Braska was an advocate for universal unity, appealing for peace between not only the Guados, but Ronso and Al Bhed communities as well. Seeing as Lord Braska was assassinated in the most protected place in the world, who knows if their next leader won't be targeted as well? We're not even sure which faction has initiated the targeting or if it's merely a distressed individual."

_Reporter 2: _"Lord Braska was killed by the Al Bhed, _not _the Ronso, _not_ the Hypello_ or_ Yevonites. No 'ifs,' 'ands' or 'buts' about it. The Guado however, have basically left our side so we could face the threat alone."

Yuna firmly looked to the sphere screen, but she guessed her expression took on another form for a few seconds later Wakka worriedly whispered her name.

_The Mediator stepped in:_ "I've just received news from Grand Maester Mika. It seems like he believes the likely and only serious candidate is Lord Seymour, a former summoner and high priest of Macalania. Unfortunately, he has said there's also nothing to be heard from Maester Kelk Ronso and Gagazet at this time."

Wakka pointedly changed the channel, and now it starred an amateur blitz game in sunny Luca. They were terrible, reducing to wear water breathers in the water dome but the sound of the game overtook the kitchen, and Yuna was glad for the silence among them.

Someone on the screen scored and the cheers and buzzers for some reason relaxed Wakka better than any gesture Yuna or Lulu could make.

Frankly, sneaking past the reporters that hounded her door was getting to be a chore. Yuna had nearly been caught three times, and each excursion proved to be a failure just like the last.

Wakka absentmindedly scratched a sore under his chin. The red hairs of a beard tickled his skin under his knuckles.

Today was the day that Yuna had been waiting for, for the last ten years and Kimahri was no where to be found.

They were gathered against the counter with the immensely serious looks on all of their faces. It looked as if they were glaring down at the fruit bowl in the center of them, begging for it to crack and confess to its crime. The silent-interrogation failed.

When Lulu tucked her arms closer to her body to lean more comfortably, the other two's pensive state softened. Her movement was a domino effect, inciting them to unfreeze.

Wakka hung his hand on his shoulders. "Kimahri should have been here by now. Yuna, we can't stay here much longer. I'll rip my hair out if we have to deal with any more reporters."

Yuna blew away her bangs in an equally tired manner of hiding all the time, "We were supposed to go Bikanel as soon as I became a summoner.. but I don't think Kimahri's going to make it in time."

"When was the last time you received a message from Rikku?"

"It's been over three months. Normally, an Al Bhed would suddenly pull me aside in town with the message, that's why I made it a habit to walk around everyday for a few hours but it's been so long," Yuna ended, ridden with a sense of defeat.

"I wonder if something has happened in Bikanel. It's not like Rikku."

Yuna timidly shook her head, "I saw Rin a few weeks ago at the harbor. He would've said something was wrong if anything had happened."

Wakka twisted his nose and his lips distastefully. "Rin, huh? So, what did that guy say?"

Lulu hid a disconcerting frown from her fiancée.

"He told me that the night I become a summoner, he'd have one of his courier ships arrive on my father's private dock and take us to Bikanel. He acted like he normally does..."

Wakka slumped, placing his elbow on the table then smacking his palm toward his chin and lower lip, "Hmph! They're just asking to be discovered."

"If there's anything I trust Rin to do, it's to get us there without anyone knowing."

"There're only so many times he'll be that lucky," Wakka said into his hand, "The Coast Guards will eventually pick up that his 'fishing boat' is a fake. He's been doing the same thing for five years. What if they got a crew around that area now? Crazy Al Bhed."

Wakka felt their eyes on him, and promptly looked to their direction to find both women chidingly glare at him.

"I'm just saying. Rin, Cid, Brother..." every name he counted on his fingers, "three major players and they're all _loopy,_" Wakka swung his fingers in a circle near his temple and topped it off with a smile.

"_Eccentric_..." Yuna corrected, albeit none too seriously as she was reflecting Wakka's own grin.

Lulu sighed, bringing the other two away from their amusement. "There's not much we can do other than just sit and wait. Are you ready for the Cloister?"

"Yeah, but before that... I'd like to go for another walk around Bevelle just in case I might be able see Rin, Kimahri, or any other Al Bhed. Hopefully, no one else spots me."

Wakka crossed both arms on top of the table, "That's another thing. While you're out looking for them, those reporters are gunning for ya. You know as well as we do that the rest of Spira blames them for you dad's death. It'd be suicide for any one of them to be hanging around here. The chances you'll find one in Bevelle of all places is almost zero."

While she appreciated the concern, Wakka was definitely not making things easier. "I've got to try."

Wakka exhaled audibly.

"I won't get caught. And even if you're right about all of the Al Bhed abandoning Bevelle, I need to do this. I might even run into Kimahri. Right, Lulu?" Yuna purposely left out Auron's name due to his wish for discretion.

Lulu shook her head disapprovingly. "I trust you know what you're doing."

Yuna hummed, "I do."

"Sounds like a plan," Wakka regretfully agreed.

The front door bell rung angrily, and the knocks and screams of reporters, paparazzi and "well-wishers" made its way into the air. Lulu's face dropped into a contempt frown while Wakka's furrowed tightly.

"Don't they ever get tired?" Wakka cracked his knuckles. "I'll take care of them. You do whatever you do to vanish, but we meet up in an hour, ya?"

"Right."

"Don't let me catch you on the news channel."

"Thanks Wakka."

He stalked to the front door, pressed his face against the shaken wood and banged it louder than the hordes of people outside. "'Hey! What in the world did I tell you guys twenty minutes ago! You got coral for brains?""

Lulu moistened her lips as Yuna went to the backyard door and held the golden knob. Wakka's yelling became pleasant background noise to Yuna's ears. "Make sure that Wakka keeps that up for another few minutes?"

"Of course."

Yuna hesitantly nodded, inching the door open to ensure a soundless escape. Lulu took the door's side in her hand, readying to close it after Yuna's jumped over the villa's wall.

.

**Bevelle's Outer City Gates**

When a bright red garb shimmered among the yellow, brown, blue and white tunics among the citizens and traders, Tidus' eyebrows knitted together unbelievably. "Auron?"

Dazed, a passerby nearly struck him over the head.

"Move kid!"

Tidus narrowly ducked a carpenter and his wooden beam, overhearing way too many conversations at once barely apologizing fast enough. He darted his attention back to the spot he could've sworn he saw a speck of red.

After traveling alone in regions where people were as sparse as diamonds, it certainly made a difference to him centered among harbor decks teeming with life, attempting to handle sight of the large ships carrying through the sea.

Kimahri unwittingly drifted too far ahead from his lingering newcomer. Then again like Tidus, Bevelle made him focus on one person: Yuna Darrow. He spied on the body language of each and every guard as well as skim over the surface of people.

He was left in a sea port that doubled as a marketplace with fruit stands and glamorized foundations but for once, Tidus outright overlooked the alien surroundings.

Threading through the citizens and merchants, finding Auron was all he could think about.

He wanted to find Auron, find him then yell at him for everything he's put him through as soon as he got his hands on him.

Both clearly distracted, they marched through Bevelle's common streets none the wiser of the growing distance between them. Tidus occasionally dipped his head up and down just hoping for one glance of Auron's red jacket in the crowd. They were slowly but surely separated in the swarm of people, unaware and frankly uncaring that they were going off in different directions.

Suddenly, a flash of red caught Tidus' eye. Instantly, he sped off, dodging various carts and wagons, zigzagging all around people just to get to the other side of the port faster. He cut through the crowd none too gracefully.

"Auron?" he asked aloud, not caring if he blew his cover.

But when he reached the other side of the huge plaza, people scattered. Standing in a now semi-deserted area, Tidus lost him. Frantically looking left and right, Auron was no where in sight.

He began thinking he was hallucinating. People on occasion eyed him, but never stopped with their merry conversations or their task at hand. Tidus bit the insides of his mouth and looked around anxiously. If Auron really was here just a moment ago, he couldn't have disappeared so quickly... not when his red jacket made him stick out like sore thumb.

Tidus let out a disappointed sigh as he placed his hands on his hips. "Hnh…"

"Careful with that load, greenhorn! You break it, I'm quitting!"

"Haha! SAME! You'll be cursed! I'd rather rot in the sea than be with a unlucky tenderfoot."

"Women will _die_ your feet!" the older mockingly scandalized.

"I won't! Get the back! It's slipping."

Tidus eased one hand to weave into the back of his blond hair. He felt like an idiot. Auron wasn't just Auron in Spira. He was _Sir_ Auron Crowe, guardian – bodyguard - of some famous humanitarian. Damn him. Everyone has to be a celebrity in some way, didn't they?

He needed to make friends with normal people… Tidus frowned.

Men around the bend clear across the marketplace, unloaded mirrors from their crates, shining the sunlight straight into his face. His arms quickly blocked the streams of light and it seemed to snap Tidus back to his whereabouts. When the sunbeams cleared, the ocean made itself heard loud and clear above the jolly laughs and sailors barking orders.

From the very same direction of the mirrors unknown to him was the appearance of a girl with mousy brown hair, excusing herself politely for being in their way. Not a soul had an inkling of her noble rank, and she preferred it to stay that way. Unlike the rest of the higher class, she felt at home if not for the stint of paranoia ailing her smile.

Yuna Darrow continually kept her eyes everywhere but in front of her. It as less of search for Kimahri, Auron, or Al Bhed as it was a get away.

Tidus on the one hand could barely focus on a single detail or spot longer than a few seconds.

People pleasantly walked passed him, and occasionally nodded toward him which felt entirely too new for him. He'd forgotten in Zanarkand, they'd sooner point at him like a side show than greet him or sooner hide his face.

Customers knew the names of shopkeepers and vice-versa. Men all around the bars and taverns laughed and joked. Whenever a newcomer came along they all raised their glasses to greet him.

It was sort of hard to believe that a famous leader of theirs had recently died.

"Hehehe," a boy chortled.

"Shush!"

"But mom—"

Bringing his attention back down to the street, he heard a child being chided by his mother for staring at Tidus' clothes. She held onto his arm, carting him to the spouting fountain. He glanced down at them, his arms opening to view his entire form. They didn't seem that odd, do they?

Tidus allowed a smile to grace his features, despite his previous disappointment of not getting a hold of Auron.

He had to admit, Bevelle certainly had the whitest looking buildings he'd ever seen. The alien planet he stumbled upon was starting to look more fun by the second. They could stare at him all they wanted, and they'd never see Jecht. The worst he could be was the village fool for wearing clown wear apparently. Tidus grinned and laughed at the thought.

Auron was long forgotten when he remembered that he wasn't Jecht junior, at least not here.

He sauntered around like a lost puppy, drinking happily in the sights, sounds, and best of all smell of an ocean nearby. It came to the point that he paid more attention to the buildings and the artistry in the architecture than where he was moving.

Down a ways, two reporters rested on the wooden benches, exhaustively looking through the sphere memories.

"Guess what, I heard that Miss Darrow's already left for her pilgrimage."

"I didn't even know she became a summoner yet…" she pondered.

"Pfft!" he blew a raspberry. "Acolytes and Crusaders never say a damn word about Summoner Judgments. For all we know, she left days ago!"

Yuna tucked herself behind a column, waiting to hear more. Having nearly run into several people with sphere recorders, she placed her hand over chest above her heart.

"I'm pooped. Chief wants Miss Darrow for a tear-jerk story and milk the Al Bhed terror shindig, but the price on her headshot's been going down since last week. Whether or not Darrow's here, she's too hard to track for my tastes."

"But if someone does manage to get it, they're set for life."

"Hmph! Nobles hang themselves around City Hall. You id-gits take enough of the people who want to have interviews, you'll be fine! I'm going back to the inner city. Coming?"

"Yeah…"

Yuna bit her lip. So there were people still on her tail. In the entirety of Bevelle, at most there were forty of them. She supposed only a handful still thought she was in the city. In spite of the situation, she smirked. Sliding across the pillar, Yuna spied on the man and woman leave the plaza, their coffees in hand.

Even after they disappeared and a minute passed, then two, she refrained from moving in case they backtracked.

She had hoped they'd given up by now.

Looking back to the streets she left behind, she took solace that none of townsfolk had the telling red straps of sphere camera.

Satisfied, Yuna gratefully sighed then slithered out of the shadow. Her eyes never left the corner street, afraid that those two will come back. She walked hurriedly in the opposite direction and even smiled at her own success.

Tidus hummed. The buildings around him were no higher than four stories at max. With colorful clothes adorning the windowsills like hanging flags, over the top carvings on the ledges, he wondered why Auron and Kimahri were so angry when the first big city he ran into was so bright.

Tidus turned on his heel suddenly to continue exploring down the street, unintentionally in her path.

Right when Yuna allowed herself to look ahead of her, all she saw was a silver pendant in the shape of a fishhook-... Tchk.

Yuna bumped right into Tidus, face-to-face. Her eyes shut tight upon the collision and her arms covering her body on reflex.

"Whoa!" Tidus brimmed. "Watch out."

He held onto the woman that ran straight into his chest like a blitzball kick straight into his stomach. She nearly tipped him over. Yuna nervously frowned.

"Oh! I'm sorry!"

Like they read each other's minds, they felt embarrassed to be touching so intimately for strangers a second longer. That split second that they anxiously tried to pull away, Yuna kept her head low almost afraid he might recognize her.

Tidus glanced down at her and saw just how close she was from his chin. He lost half of his careless grin as it donned on him what kind of girl he had in his arms. She wasn't at all what he expected. He thought it was an older woman or a girl in her earlier teens...

As soon as they locked eyes, they both adeptly blushed and stepped backward instantly but the smiles on each of them grew even bigger in the wake of it.

Yuna immediately apologized and was tempted to bow quickly but resisted the urge. "I'm _so_ so sorry."

He shook his head, "Hah, are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Yuna shook her head, relieved to hear a happy voice. "I'm fine," she appreciatively replied, "You?"

He must've spotted her nerves as clear as day, evident in a small tilt of his head. "I think so..." he looked down to his torso and pat his ribs, "You might've broken a bone or two," he laughed.

His attempt to make her feel better made her smile. "I wasn't really paying attention and I was in a hurry… I'm really sorry."

Tidus shook his head energetically, "Ah-no! It was my fault," he said way too quickly. Yuna's eyebrows rose surprisingly at his hurry to put the blame on himself. "Ah...!" he mentally reprimanded himself with a slight wince, "I guess I shouldn't have been standing in the middle of the street."

The polite smiles exchanged were border-lining a shy, practically infatuated reaction but to this, they were completely oblivious.

Her eyes wondered to his blond hair. _Blond hair..._

Immediately, her gaze flickered for the telling green eyes, but instead she was met with a different color altogether. Her pupils dilated at the sight... piercing blue eyes.

Yevonite blue eyes and Al Bhed blond hair...the rarity of such a combination was very like her own. He very well could be and even pass for a half Al Bhed— her smile diminished at the realization. The idea he was one just like her tugged deeply onto her hopes.

"Hi," Tidus grinned.

"...Hi," she said.

"I'm Tidus," he proclaimed. He lent out his hand but he didn't know… Spira didn't have handshakes.

She thoughtfully studied his bare hand and wondered briefly how to react.

The position, the declaration, and the manner - it was new, different to her. An offered hand was usually a sign of intimacy or an asking gesture for a dance, but his wrist made no move to turn or flatten. But then, as a politician's daughter, it wasn't the first time she encountered a peculiar social more. She glanced back at his face and tilted her head to the side. He was full of surprises.

It appeared to Tidus that she only paused to take his handshake into consideration so he never faltered.

Before three seconds could pass and long before Tidus understood that he made a mistake, Yuna lent out her hand in a similar fashion. She was so intent on his face, she didn't think much about her hand or the fact that he grabbed it, or that he shook it up and down in an odd way. Luckily, Yuna took it in stride with Tidus none the wiser. However... in the back of her mind, she was trying to figure out which land in Spira had such a greeting...

"Tidus," she said aloud to let the name sink in. He beamed. "I'm Yuna."

Both of them firmly held hands. Yuna liked the smile he had. Relaxed and sincere, it suited him very well. Even more so, she liked the fact he didn't react much upon hearing her name.

.

**End Chapter 3**

**.**

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If you have any comments, critique, or suggestions, please feel free to review.


	5. Ch 4 To Kill a Yellow Mocking Bird

Music: Yuna's theme, Braska's Daughter, Luca, Ridess The Shoopuf? (weirdly enough.)

**Author Notes: **Written this one in short bursts, so I'm positive that this chapter needs more revisions and edits. But I decided to just churn out a chapter and keep heading forward.

Four days late to the upload date what I wanted, I didn't want the gap to get bigger.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy. ^^

* * *

.

_Previously:_

The polite smiles were border-lining a shy, infatuated reaction. Of this, Tidus had no doubt.

Her eyes wondered to his blond hair. _Blond hair...  
_

"I'm Tidus," the young man lent out his hand.

She was so intent on his face, she didn't think much about her hand or the fact he was lightly shaking it up and down in an odd manner.

"Tidus," she said aloud to let the name sink in. He beamed upon hearing his name. "I'm Yuna."

Both of them firmly held hands. Yuna liked the smile he had. It suited him very well. Even more so, she liked the fact he didn't react much upon hearing her name.

.

**Ch.**** 4 To Kill a (Yellow) Mocking Bird  
**

**.  
**

Hands still shaking, silver bracelets twinkling, Yuna thoughtfully bit her lip. Having run into a boy with not the slightest hint of ulterior motives, she unconsciously backed herself into a shell of herself doing nothing but assessing the person in front of her. A force of habit developed through many a year, she studied for any idea who this person could be.

A fellow half blood was too good to be true.

Something was off about him Yuna thought as she curled in her lips. When the boy spoke, there wouldn't a hint of an accent, nor any of the attire that screamed Al Bhed. He had no goggles or the skin-tight sand-proof gloves or sleeves. But most of all, his indelible smile...

"Yuna," he repeated her name, snapping her out of a daze. "So, are you from Bevelle?"

A flash of amusement was hidden behind her smile. He really didn't know… That one question he asked was all she needed to know.

"...You could say that," she nodded brightly. That very moment, she was counting her stars. Had she ran into a reporter, Wakka would have her head. Her fingers around his palm relaxed.

"I take it you've never been to Bevelle before," she said, and for some reason, he grinned.

"I'm not that obvious, am I?"

"Just a little."

Still in the midst of shaking hands, they were completely forgetting that they were wondering the streets looking for someone. Their hands separated decidedly, and suddenly were incapable of removing the smiles on their faces.

If only either of them knew Auron was down the street finishing his sake from a restaurant table. His coat hung on the shoulders of his chair.

As though he had planned it from the beginning, he had a straight-on view of Tidus meeting his friend's daughter as a perfect distance. The quirk of a risen brow and a narrowed gaze however, betrayed the notion.

In a second, he was able to pick up Tidus' reckless smiling, but when wasn't he? No, Yuna was the real object of his piqued interest. He lowered his cup away from his lips. Auron furrowed his eyebrows stiffly.

Tidus grabbed Yuna by the wrist and tried to rush her off in one direction. He waited for her reaction. Then when Yuna smiled, Auron cast his eyes across the café. His knuckled pressed into the tablecloth, he cleared his throat.

"Hmph," he hummed with a hidden smirk. "...imagine that."

.

The Ronso's golden eyes darted across the square for any sign of Tidus, who had only moments ago discovered his absence. His jaw locked, wishing he had noticed sooner.

"Papers! No one passes without proper identification papers and passes!" The intercom of each gate muttered. "Papers! Citizens only! Papers! Citizens only!"

Kimahri unknowingly stalked past a wanted poster of an Al Bhed, a man with long blond hair, plastered on the one of the city poles, marred with bright red and black ink. However, it cared not of an individual, but rather a mock of entire race.

The inner-city was full of travelers trying to pass through the gates like an airport.

His cheeks twitched over his fangs. Over the many heads of hair of the sea of people before him, not a single blond head was in sight. The beaches gulls played into the peaceful atmosphere that Bevelle often hid behind.

He folded his arms stiffly, making his stand. "_Damn it_."

Kimahri vaguely growled. His patience was admittedly wearing thin but there some solace in knowing that Tidus had no ability to blend in. He'll wait until someone thinks he's trying to blow up the port.

Sooner or later, Tidus will barrel through one of them then get jumped by the many officers like a fish in dry land.

Tidus was probably the easiest person to find in the world, he concluded. It was a waiting game.

He looked to the sky for position of the sun. Kimahri was going to allow till noon.

.

_Two Hours Later_

Yuna was starting to think her "investigative" purposes were just a farce… especially when an hour had gone by and she'd made no effort to figure out Tidus' possible half-Al Bhed backgrounds. By the time she was aware of her original intentions, any idea that Tidus was an Al Bhed member flew out the window just by his utter lack of tact. He down-talked the armored men, Bevelle's guards, and joked that they looked like chess pieces. He wasn't the least bit afraid to grin and laugh or draw any sort of attention to himself to the point that if Tidus was an Al Bhed, Kimahri would've been Hypello.

She kept smiling the entire day with just the mere image of Kimahri among Hypello in the Moonflow.

Yuna looked to her cheery companion, debonair in his own way, childish in most. She particularly liked to look at his ear just underneath a few wayward strips of blond hair. It was pierced four times, all bright silver.

They talked, more than she thought strangers could do so openly. Mostly about chocobos, thanks to Tidus' stories about his first ride on one. Walking side by side, their feet barely covered the amount of ground an ordinary person should be covering. Then again, Tidus was an excellent story teller.

"So, you don't remember anything?" she asked.

"Mmmm…" Tidus' lips swerved, finding it tough to reply, "some things, I guess."

Yuna smiled at the happy lilt in his voice. "What don't you remember?"

"…uhhh?" was all that came out. She wasn't aware of it, but his eyes widened. His heart nearly stopped. Biting his lip, Tidus chanced a glance to the girl beside him. "What don't I remember? Well, I guess Spira in general. Heheh…" he nervously laughed. "I remember my name?" he lamely suggested. "Some childhood memories?"

"Did you forget Bevelle?" she suggested.

"Yup."

"Macalania?" Yuna smiled.

"Yup."

"Yevon?"

Tidus' shoulders dropped, but he didn't miss a beat. "Where's that?"

Yuna sharply breathed a laugh, "Um, no. You mean '_what_.' Wow, you really don't remember Yevon..."

"Should I?" Tidus peeked over to her curiously.

She became kindly jealous of his amnesia. When she looked to him to answer, her cheeks suddenly flushed. He was smiling. Tidus' icy blue eyes were too bright for her liking. "…No. You shouldn't. I'm just surprised. It's not something one could easily forget."

"Will you teach me?"

They were much too bright. She merely smiled at him. Frankly, she was glad for the noisy marketplace filling in the void. Maybe he wouldn't notice she didn't want to answer.

Chatter of children down the street grew steadily louder and louder, until finally two kids running down the street narrowly missed Tidus' side as they roughly brush by. Yuna didn't seem at all bothered by it. "Holy!" his leg and arm cringed upward to allow them by. "Hey! Where's the fire?" Yuna's laugh snapped him back to lower his leg back to the ground. "You know, when I came to Bevelle, I didn't think there'd be so many people."

Yuna hummed. "It gets some getting used to. Things can get hectic or dizzying at times."

"Nah! I just haven't seen a lot of people in one spot for a long while. The rest of Spira doesn't look nearly as crowded as this place," he recalled the vastness of the Calm Lands, and the emptiness in Macalania… Tidus almost let himself think that there were no more than a few hundred people in Spira.

"I like it better that way."

"You like Spira empty?"

"No," she smiled, "_not crowded_," she corrected.

Tidus suddenly turned to look at her as if she said a magic word. His interest in her doubled, and it was only visibly through his rising eyebrows. "Crowded, huh?"

"Hm."

"Hey, Yuna?"

"Yes?"

"Towns or cities?"

A question seemingly out of nowhere, Yuna halted without a thought. "What?"

Tidus laughed at the cluelessness and led her to the pier's edge over the ocean. "You know what I mean! Which is better! Town or cities?"

Yuna curiously lift her eyebrows. Tidus certainly had a boyish charm to him, but his laughing at her didn't settle nicely - even if she smiled along with him. Figuratively, she had her arms and fists up for any curve he might have, or any tease or joke ready to pitch. Taking a seat on the concrete wall that he leaned on, wistfully, she looked to the crowd of merchants in the plaza, wondering how Besaid was doing right that minute. He, on the other hand, couldn't keep his eyes off the sea.

The past two hours had gone by faster than she imagined, and she felt that Tidus was in the very least trust worthy enough to relax with. Then again, she would be the first to admit that she tended to be a horrible judge of character.

"Towns are better, I think."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "I might not be the best person to ask though. I grew up in a village myself, I guess you could call it a town. Cities in Spira aren't always what people expect them to be."

"Well... what about outside of Spira?"

Inwardly, Yuna stiffened. "Outside?"

"Yeah, you know? Haven't you heard of Zanarkand?" he asked.

A melancholy smile fell on her. Her gut sank slowly. Of all topics that Tidus could bring up, he brought up the one that that made it seem impossible that he didn't recognize her name. Like a flash, she could nearly imagine Tidus' smiling mug with the camera red strap that she had tried so hard to run from around his neck. Wakka's cynicism was getting her.

She became reticent, tight-lipped, but her silence was perceived so very differently in Tidus' eyes as he suddenly appeared joyous, and it only served to confuse Yuna even further.

"You _never_ heard about Zanarkand?"

When she didn't speak up again and merely shrugged, Tidus bolted upright to command over their conversation shocking her.

"The city of lights! The liveliness and the excitement," he spoke excitedly, propping himself up by his arms on the very concrete she sat on. Yuna's lips parted finely. "Never-ending nights! No, nothing?"

Tidus had nearly gone off in a rant. He had unknowingly singed through her disappointment. Entranced by him, Yuna tucked her chin near her collarbone. Slowly, a smirk developed along her smile. She bet he didn't even notice. A dreamy calmness took him, and it seemed that he was swept away by a fantasy.

"The stadiums were always full of cheering fans for concerts or games-" Tidus' voice held unguarded happiness but when he caught sight of Yuna's surprised stare, he abruptly cut himself off instantaneously, "-Err, at least that's what heard!"

Yuna brought her hand to her mouth to hide her mirth, "I'm guessing you like cities?"

"I...-" Tidus flicked his eyes to the cement. He tried to hide his grin, "Yeah... I do. Don't you?" Out of curiosity, he glanced at her face for her reaction.

She nodded briefly.

Satisfied, Tidus went back to watching the boats in the bay and relaxed significantly but Yuna had moistened her lower lip in a manner anything but carefree. Something was off and she knew it. Suspicions and speculations about the man began to bubble within her, some more pressing than others.

"…you remember Zanarkand?"

He nervously laughed. "A-heha, oh yeah! Y'know, my neighbor used to tell me stories about far-off lands all the time! He's not… easy to forget."

Tidus cringed, that was a lie no matter how he looked at it. Calling Auron a neighbor was also a _gross_ exaggeration. However… he figured Auron never lied. He just never said the whole truth. So, quite frankly, Tidus whole heartedly believed that Auron was being brutally honest when he said that e_very Spiran had heard of the tale of Zanarkand_. But if that was true, why was Yuna suddenly so quiet?

"Guess I don't remember recent things?"

"Hm."

He pleaded at her with nonverbal gestures to make any light gesture, anything to prove that he didn't just sell his soul. He would've never guessed that the one feeling most insecure was she.

Then almost out of nowhere, Tidus began to notice the thoughtful way about her. Her eyes closed halfway, she stared down at her hands. She was something else… Yuna was nothing like the people back at home. He frowned then. Zanarkand was so far away now.

He wondered if anyone back home realized he was gone yet. Tidus smiled to himself, diverting his gaze back to the ocean pensively. They were probably wondering where their lone blitzer ran off to.

"Did you live in a small town?"

He exhaled at the question.

Tidus' linked hands dangled over the cement wall, and on occasion, he can feel the spray of the incoming waves from the ocean below. "_Me_? Small town? Never," he smirked. "My old home, I couldn't enjoy getting out of my house. It was impossible going anywhere without being recognized. I felt trapped! I always wanted to live a small town, or at least go to one. I never really had that chance, y'know? To blend in."

"A small town just means you'll be noticed easier though," she said.

"Yeah, but isn't it different?" There was a pinch of actual confusion in his voice. He continued, "In a city, no one _really_ knows you. It's impossible to make a lot of_ really good_ friends, especially if you're someone who is pretty famous, y'know?"

Yuna softened her lip and quirked an eyebrow. "You've really given this a lot of thought."

Tidus shrugged modestly, "I always thought that being in a really small town meant that it'd be like one big family. I used to wonder what that was like all time. I wanted to run away to a place like that and never go back!"

Yuna could clearly see through it. "If that's true... why do you love cities so much?"

His lips parted, immediately displaying the surprise of such a question. Quickly, he glanced over to the girl in question and they locked eyes. Tidus smiled, making Yuna do the same. Very quickly, Yuna was realizing this sudden eye contact they shared was no longer as casual as it started out to be. Taking a moment, she once again broke their eye contact forcibly.

"Come on, you want to check out the rest of the pier?"

"Sure," she replied. Yuna slid down from the concrete wall, and began walking side by side with him down the pier. Their shoes thumped on the cement panels.

"Yuna, I want to thank you again for showing me around. You didn't have to," Tidus slid his hands in his pockets.

Yuna nearly shook her head at him. "Tidus, why'd you come to Bevelle?"

"I... uh," Tidus casually told the truth, feeling immensely secure that it couldn't hurt him, "I didn't really have anywhere else to go. When I first came here, I thought an old friend was here somewhere. And right now," he continued with a laugh, "it kind of looks like I'm lost."

"Did you come here alone?"

"Nope, I had a really mean chaperon," he looked to her with cheeky grin. Their slow walk paced to a stop.

Yuna laughed. Tidus was interesting to be sure. "Do you at least know where you need to go?"

Tidus looked all across the port, "Not really, but I have to find… t-his…" but then he caught sight of something just over her head, "one- per- son?" he dragged out.

Yuna glanced over to him oddly. One of Tidus' brows furrowed tightly as he peered over her head to look at streets.

He asked, "Are those people looking at us?"

At the question, Yuna's smile fell as she turned to see where he was looking. "Oh, no."

"Is that Lady Yuna?"

"No, she wouldn't go outside Bevelle checkpoints, would she? Not when the Al Bhed could be around."

"I hoped the lady wouldn't be targeted by the Al Bhed as they done her father!"

One of the many people across the street held a sphere recorder in his hand. At first, he didn't even look their way... but the ever perturbed crowd made his eyes stream over where everyone thought they spotted the famous Lady Yuna. Etching closer, the man with a camera squinted at the two. Yuna could already tell he was a reporter on a break by the hanging red strap and the sphere camera tied along his hip.

"_...Lady_ Yuna?" Tidus repeated quizzically.

He glanced over to her to see her covering her face with her hand from the onlookers to her right.

"Great…" Yuna sighed dejectedly and it was almost inaudible. Feeling Tidus' eyes on her, she tried to smile at him but his confused expression made it difficult to do so. He tilted his head in question.

Yuna did her best to ignore the stares she was receiving on both ends, and settled with looking down to the floor.

Her lack of response led Tidus to gawk back at the crowd again for some answers and it was then he spotted a gallant sphere recorder... If Tidus hadn't noticed Yuna's change in mood, he would've been glad to see that he saw something he knew from Zanarkand. A camera! Tidus smirked then.

The reporter hadn't edged closer yet. Eyes pinned on them, he lifted his camera just so slightly, reluctant to say whether the girl in question was really Yuna as all the other people in the port claimed to be. His feet scuffled across the road, behind the fountain. He wasn't going to waste precious memory on yet another false alarm. The man could see barely see the girl in question.

Tidus looked to the girl beside him, then without warning, he pulled her off to the side with his hand on her forearm. Placing himself in direct view of ol' mister pudgy paparazzi, Tidus curtly glared at every staring passerby. Whoever Yuna was, they couldn't bring themselves to stop whispering. And he thought _he_ was _famous_.

"When I first met Tidus, I allowed myself to pretend that he was friend I knew a long time ago. He made it very easy to do so. He never said a word about government, the various news circulating all of Spira, or even about the Al Bhed. I was amazed that I was able to have long talks with someone who never brought up about anything about the other factions, or even my father's name. That was enough for me."

"Tidus?"

He raised his chin in thought, unaware she had said a thing.

Yuna, meanwhile, was surprised by the courtesy of it all.

"But then Tidus proved differently."

A few seconds later, Tidus grinned.

"We're gonna to make a run for it," he said like it was the most obvious conclusion. "Let's start walking. Come on!"

Yuna was stunned for words which was made apparent by the slight gape of her mouth. Tidus grabbed for her wrist to get her to start moving. He had to goad her. "Come on!"

"Run?"

Successful in his attempts to excite her into action, Tidus slowly let his hand slid away from her wrist.

"I'll make sure you'll get away. It'll be easy! When I saw go, we'll run our way to the huge crowd over there and when he follows, we'll split up. If you keep low and head past the red gates while I sprint pass those bird-_choco-things_ in the crowd," Yuna's face contorted at his name for chocobos, "he'll bound to see and follow me, letting you escape. I'll even jump around and scream to make sure of it." He looked over to her confidently, it grew impossible not to feel influenced by it. "But we have to stay together when we first run through a crowd, okay? If he sees us split up, he won't follow me. We need to work together if this is gonna work! Got it?"

She started with an unbelieving laugh, "Why are you d-"

In a teenaged manner, he boasted, "It looks like fun!" Tidus' pace increased from the anticipation. "Don't you think?" He smiled knowingly. Tidus felt himself reverting back to seventeen.

Yuna felt a grin appear. Even if she wanted to, she didn't think she could repress it. The energy and spirit he had in just in his smile was contagious.

She too picked up her speed, looking over at Tidus for the cue. Her breathing quickened, and already she could feel the butterflies in her stomach from the fun she was already having. The approval that coursed through his expression deepened the feeling.

He glanced back and forth between Yuna and the people eying them.

"You ready?" Tidus nudged Yuna accidentally with his elbow. Their sides were much too close for Tidus to be keeping watch of the reporter and not unintentionally graze her at some point.

"Ready." Yuna kept speed walking beside him. She was about ready to laugh.

Tidus grinned and whipped his head toward her, "Go!"

Off they sprinted!

Yuna and Tidus ran down the pier, both looking back at the reporter far behind them.

"It_ is _her!" the portly reporter shouted! "HEY! Wait!"

He took chase. Through the crowded streets, he was barely able to keep a keen eye on Lady Yuna's brown hair. He shouted for them to slow down. Tidus and Yuna ran faster! A misplaced step and a tummy nudge of an oncoming fruit cart was all one needed to a masterful spill of cabbage and apples across the road.

Tidus and Yuna barely caught the scene in the corners of their eyes.

Immediately, the reporter halted to apologize to the shop keep who was furiously screaming furiously at him. Though, his legs shook to move forward again. He had to snatch an interview of Yuna, or at least a photo!

"Hey!" The shop keep shouted angrily. "Get your ass back here!"

The reporter waved his hands wildly and ran backwards. "I'll pay later! I promise!" he wheezed.

He continued the chase as the shopkeeper tore him a new one. The shop keep pursued him with a broom swinging violently back and forth in the air.

Tidus laughed and then immediately looked over to Yuna after noticing she was slowing down a bit from witnessing the accident. "Come on," he grinned.

She followed suit.

"That turned out better than I expected!" he said to her, looking straight ahead. Her reaction of course wasn't particularly one of ease. A wild look almost, Tidus laughed grandly that she chose now to be worried.

As Tidus and Yuna jogged into the crowd he had almost tripped on a few people's legs. "Ah-whoop! Sorry!"

Yuna shook her head happily seeing him now slowly drift behind. Clumsily, Tidus stumbled trying to catch up to her. She was laughing so much!

"Hey, you've done this before!" he shouted to her.

"_This?_ No! Have you?"

"Once or twice!" he declared.

"Really?"

"Got to do what it takes, like Auron used to say!"

It was his third slip of the tongue, and the only one he didn't realize he had to crawl out of. Yuna couldn't move her head quick enough to the man running beside her. If only she had accounted for their surroundings with their 'finish line' inevitably getting closer and closer. By all intents and purposes, Yuna and Tidus didn't think they'd see each other again. Right when they first met, they expected it to be that way from the start. Yuna fought a growing grin in spite of the irony.

"Well, I guess this is where we go our separate ways, Yuna."

"This is goodbye, then…"

"Right!" Tidus saluted playfully. "See ya! It was nice meeting you." He sharply turned into an entirely direction. Then the most colorful sound entered her ears, a sharp whistle that he made with two fingers inside lips.

Eyebrows tightly furrowed, Yuna's bewitched grin couldn't hide any longer.

"You too," she managed to say.

With another of Tidus' distant whistle, Yuna saw that everyone in the marketplace couldn't help but look where it came from. The loud sound made for the perfect cover from them and the paparazzi after her mug shot and a propagandized column in the papers and sphere screen. She almost wanted to laugh, sure that Tidus didn't exactly plan it that way.

Yuna discreetly slowed down among the crowd of people, finally jogging into a street corner, down an entirely other lane. She wouldn't forget the man she was sure she would never see again.

So two hours had gone by since she left Wakka and Lulu to man the fort. She saw no Al Bhed, didn't receive any messages from Rikku, and there wasn't a single sight either Auron or Kimahri. Nothing she set out to accomplished happened, and yet... Yuna didn't have the heart to say that this particular walk around Bevelle was a complete failure.

Luckily, the man they ran away from was left in the dust.

In the maze of people, far behind their tails, the tubby reporter panted over his thighs. He threw his messenger bag onto the cobble stone street, awakening a cloud of dust. "Dammit!"

Some feet behind him, Kimahri had emerged from the crowd, anxious. His ears wildly fidgeted. He could've sworn he heard Yuna's voice.

Kimahri scanned across the area, but unfortunately, he lost the trail.

.

Breathing heavily, Yuna had managed to sneak out of the plaza, untouched by any reporter's hands. Her one earring still swung like a pendulum from the earlier excitement. The blue feather on the end of the teal bead consistently skimmed over her collarbone. She made her way down the streets, glad to be out of the ruckus.

That was enough excitement to last her months! She breathlessly giggled. "Whew."

But down the corner, Yuna saw the oh too familiar sight of Wakka's orange hair. Her chest stilled, and her usual quiet, studious nature finally peaked out.

What in the world was Wakka doing outside the border check points of Bevelle?

"Man, I've been down this road already," he grumbled. Sheepishly, Wakka scratched the back of his head, trying to decide where to go. "I'm not a guardian yet, and it's already hard looking after her. Maybe I'm not cut out for this, ya?"

Yuna stood just by a flower cart with dozens of sun hats pegged on the top. "Wakka?"

Wakka nearly up and died. "Thank Yevon!" he bolted to her. His large stature made it incredibly hard to weave in and out of the sign posts and crates. "It figures you find me first! Where in St. Bevelle have you been?" As soon as he could, he took hold onto her forearm and tugged her along as he back-peddled where he first appeared from, "I've been looking for you for an hour already! Let's hurry, ya? We got to get going!"

"What's the matter?"

"Eh? What do you mean what's the matter? You're gonna to be late for the cloisters!" Wakka smiled.

Yuna mouth formed an immediate "O" with her lips, "Oh, right!"

"Y-You forgot?" Wakka was flabbergasted as clued in by his contorted face.

"No, it's not that! I… didn't realize how much time had passed."

"You okay?" Wakka felt her forehead with the back of his hand.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting for so long."

"Yeah, me and Lu kinda figured you'd get a little side-tracked. No harm done." Awkwardly, his hands rested on his hips, "Did you find... any... you know?"

She lowered her eyes and shook her head. "You were right. There wasn't a single Al Bhed in the entire port. It looks like they've deserted Bevelle."

"Yeah, with good reason. Anyone with blond hair could be seen miles away in this city."

Her eyebrows flew up.

"...Yeah." Yuna added whimsically, "I guess they do." She looked back to try to see in the far distance where she and Tidus had split up. Yuna secretly smiled.

Wakka started a pace, "Lulu's at temple. If Kimahri made it here, then I'm sure he'll be there eventually. We're late enough as it is."

Yuna nodded and followed Wakka back to the heart of Bevelle.

.

He hoped Yuna got away.

Tidus' "casual" sprint loosened the black laces on his bumblebee track shoes. It was only a matter of a few steps when it'd fly around and slap against his legs. He was unsure why, but he started to try to fix his laces while he was still running. He guessed it was force of habit from Zanarkand because he was always in rush or far too eager to get to where he was going. Hopping, it took a number of tries to even grab the laces without looking down.

Half a minute passed before Tidus would actually slow down with his shoes tightly bound around his feet. Huffing in a breath of fresh air, he was glad to have really stretched his worn-out legs. He felt revitalized, much like how he felt after a six mile sprint in the rain.

He drank in the sight of the merry people around him. His legs picked up less and less air.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

Briskly walking past the shops, Tidus finally began to think about reuniting with that silent chaperon of his. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't really concerned with the possibility of him not being able to find Kimahri. So optimistic and naive, he was convinced that he'd eventually run into Kimahri or Auron one way or another.

There were just some situations where Tidus never wavered.

"Hey! Where are your permits!"

"He's trespassing!"

As he blindly marched through a gate that was absolutely over run with guards with guns while he was admiring the architecture of the buildings around, he hadn't realized that someone was yelling at him for papers.

"Sir?"

"Security breach, Gate 79."

And there were just some situations that Tidus was absolutely clueless in.

**"GET HIM!"**

The orders that were so vehemently shouted finally got through Tidus' daydreaming and _just_ as he started to turn around three officers tackled him to the street.

"Oooff!" Tidus grunted, the wind was knocked out of him.

One of the officers held Tidus' head to the street as though if Tidus were to look at them, they'd turn into stone. The spectacle looked like a scene from a sitcom.

"AH! Hey! What was that for! Get off!"

"So you thought you could get into Bevelle!"

Everyone watched on at the commotion, each individual as nosy as a kid.

Tidus kicked wildly, trying to get them to stop crushing his body. "What? You mean I'm not in Bevelle?"

He was forced like a rag doll to stand up. The pain pounded at hm from how they held his shoulder back with his arms bound behind him. Didn't they realize he didn't bend that way? "Scum, you know the inner city is off-limits to non-citizens!"

"No! No, no, no! I didn't know that!" Tidus shouted angrily as he struggled against the brute behind him.

"Everyone knows! There's the commerce in the outer shell, then the inner city!" One of the men with a furry brown beard poignantly grasped his firearm. "Where are you from?"

Tidus' grunts were certainly silenced by that one. He wiggled around a lot less as he laughed nervously, "Err, right... about that-!" he nervously beamed.

"He's an Al Bhed!"

The smile on his face was erased the instant he saw the many people around him grow violent, and not all them of were the officers that held weapons, and night-sticks. It was the very people he had looked on in harbor. The so-called friendly citizens who chat happily to each other looked on at him maliciously. The looks of pain, fright, and disgust grew upon on their faces at the mention of the words: Al Bhed.

While they said nothing, a crowd was gathering. Some faces were much more colorful and defiant than others.

Tidus didn't understand. His brow tightened and a frown made his way on his face.

An arm clad in plated leather shoved its way to Tidus' side and its hand grasped his forearm then Tidus was thrown roughly onto the street again by an officer from behind him. The sword strapped on his waist mingled uncomfortably against his thighs and Tidus yelled out in pain.

"Ah! Hey!" he shouted angrily. "That hurt!"

"Come to terrorize of the Capital of Yevon again!" One of the officers screamed, picking him up by his shirt, crunching the cloth.

"What the hell are you talking about!"

"Terrorist! You can't fool us! Blond hair and everything!"

At that comment, the civilians started participated in the onslaught of hate. They were calling him several vicious names, and most of them Tidus had no idea what they meant. The intensity of it all was impossible for him to comprehend. All of this in no more than two minutes? No less, they were discriminating him for his _hair_?

"Terrorist! I'm not a Terrorist! What did I do! HEY! Watch it!"

The pretty picture of Bevelle in his head went up to flames as he could literally see the first stages of a mob forming. He was just glad that there weren't too many people around. He half-imagined there was going to be a riot. After all, they were all passionate for the idea that Tidus should get the beating of his life and arrested for no apparent reason. Hell, they probably wanted him dead!

Tidus shoved the man out of his face defensively, "All I did was pass through a gate!" A fist came for his face but he ducked out of way like a boxer, and the wind from the missed blow rushed by his hair. "You wanna fight! I didn't do anything wrong!"

One of the six, seven something brutes had abruptly grabbed Tidus from behind, and all Tidus could do was struggle in his grasp with his legs hovering ten or so inches off the ground. "HEY! Lemme down!"

"You're under arrest, heathen!"

"ARREST? Are you serious!" Tidus bobbed his head back angrily, hoping to cap one on the guard's head. His legs flailed wildly, and were impressively gaining more and more freedom. Tidus was seething of raw energy. "I'm not an Al Bhed! I don't even know what that is! Can you get that through your brain!"

"Then where are your papers!"

It was excruciatingly frustrating not telling them where he really came from. But as he bludgeoned the man restraining him with his diamond-hard skull, Tidus had long figured out that no matter what he said, it wouldn't have saved him at all.

Tidus' blow sent them both toppling on their backs onto the pavement.

Tidus bucked fiercely to free himself from the man's grasp, his veins pumped with adrenaline. In the corner of his eye, he noticed the guard's swollen, crooked and broken nose, and it was bleeding profusely. After a sharp elbow to the stomach, Tidus managed out of the gorilla's arm. He rolled onto the street, free of anyone restraining him.

"Ha!" Tidus spat.

The others _flew_ toward him, diving into action.

"OH sh-!"

The impact resounded through out the area, and people crowded around to see mangled limbs. The sheer amount of Yevonites that were wrestling him firmly on the ground, Tidus was astoundingly terrified by the sudden blockage of sunlight from the heaps of bodies on top of him! It was like they were _trying_ to smother him by their bright red uniforms, and their jagged badges. He prayed that the furry man's chest pressed into his face wasn't the last thing he'd ever see.

Grunts, grumbles, shouts, and the occasional whimper were all that Tidus could hear. He vehemently kicked for the sky for air! Didn't those idiots realize that he couldn't breath? A gap of light streamed finally, the mass of darkness and Tidus wormed his way to freedom. Unfortunately, he could barely just free his head. His face was smeared with sweat. The pain!

He gasped for air whilst insulting them.

Even while being crushed, he continued to punch and kick like a cornered dog.

What Tidus didn't know was that Kimahri saw the whole thing. Kimahri purred deeply to himself. The muscles in his whole body contracted. He let out a forceful sigh. It had taken much too long to find him, Kimahri rolled his eyes.

Kimahri had a choice, Yuna or Tidus.

He shook his head impatiently as he turned away to the cathedral. No matter how much trouble Tidus got in, Yuna was Kimahri's priority. It'd been over ten years, and there was no way Kimahri was going to miss the moment Yuna finally became a summoner.

All the ruckus, commotion, and the ground shaking antics, an object fell from a nearby cart.

The green object rolled lamely into the scene, losing momentum across the cobblestone street just as Tidus wriggled to attempt to turn onto his belly onto the street to breathe, but he couldn't shimmy anymore. Free only from his shoulders up from out of the igloo of men and pressed on to lie on his back, all he could do was knee a few stomachs unaware of an approaching item. The green object bore no fascination or interest of any sort until it came to a halt. Everyone froze. Even Tidus straightened his neck, staring at it upside-down and cross-eyed at the thing that rested just several inches from his face.

"He's got a grenade! CHOKE HIM!" a guard shouted.

Tidus' eyes widened, violently shaking he yelled intensely, "NO! NO! It's a PEAR-GEechhh!"

.

**End Chapter 4**

**.**


	6. Ch 5 Jail Bird

**Author Notes: **Hey, all! I'm back with more.

A friendly reminder, this is an X universe where Sin isn't around. The prerequisite to become a summoner is being able to a sending. For fun, Nooj and Gippal are briefly mentioned/referenced. Don't pay it no mind. It's just to establish they exist. They will make cameos in the future, but never to Tidus or Yuna. Gotta leave possibilities open for a possible sequel. ^^

Enjoy.

* * *

_Recap of Chapter 4:_

Tidus and Yuna talk after meeting, and discover several things about the other they endeared.

Yuna, after finding out Tidus was "amnesiac," offered to help him find the person he was looking for, unaware that the person was actually her. Before she could find out, A paparazzi discovers her in the harbor and chases after them to get a picture, pleading for her to stop. Tidus helps Yuna to escape only to get arrested by officers of Yevon when he blindly tried to enter a restricted zone. Matters get worse when they assume he's an Al Bhed because of his blond hair and they take extreme measures to subdue him.

.

"You're under arrest, heathen!"

"ARREST? Are you serious!" Tidus bobbed his head back angrily, hoping to cap one on the guard's head. His legs flailed wildly. "I'm not an Al Bhed! I don't even know what that is! Can you get that through your brain?"

.

**Ch.**** 5 - Jail Bird**

**.**

"Tidus was the first of us to see what it was like in a Bevelle prison. I still remember Wakka calling him a crook several times as a nickname after we found him. Wakka said that he really enjoyed seeing Tidus get riled up… when it wasn't embarrassing him."

_Yuna laughs._

"I liked it too…"

.

**Slums - Bevelle Underground Prison**

The skin of his arm chafed from the cuffs.

Arms tightly bound behind him, they forced him to walk down the dead green mile.

How he wished he could time travel back to the last three hours. It went from being on the top of the world, reveling the familiar atmosphere of cities, to the worst possible situation a newcomer to a city experiences. Pipes were dripping grimy water. Underground in a rust bucket of a hole, Tidus' forearms clenched with his wrists in pain from the awkward cuff locks.

It was a record.

From entering Bevelle's gates to time of capture, Tidus had made Bevelle's fastest arrest in history... so he overheard. The past hour have been the most mind-numbing of his entire life. Those jerks really thought he was going to kill them.

The back of Tidus' neck was grasped tightly together, making his head unnaturally erect, as the guard escorted him down the jail corridor. He withheld each grunt to spite them. Defiant, he only wore a tight grimace. Three of them escorted him, and the one holding his wrists and neck was the same one whose nose he broke. It was fact he reveled in.

"You'll be here until the board gets you your trial," the guy leading the way said. His voice was thick with cigarette smoke. "You may be scum, but you'll still get a trial, Bheddian."

Each cell they passed was as rusted to bits as the last. Tidus half expected to see a skeleton bound by metal chains. Had the guards paid more attention to detail, they'd find his bright eyes to be searching in the area with curiosity than anything else.

"'Til my trial, huh?" the man's grasp of the back of his neck tightened just then. "How long will that be?"

"Five years," he replied as he removed Tidus' cuffs.

His neck nearly snapped forward, "Five-!" Tidus was thrown into his cell with such force, he nearly somersaulted. The metal gate violently creaked shut. Tidus twisted onto his belly, attempting to save his spine from further wear and tear. "Grg! When I get out of here, I'm gonna... I'm gonna report you! You hear me!"

Halfway out of the hall, their dwindling but echoing voices taunted at Tidus' lack of freedom. He only wished he came up with a better threat.

"First things first, we've report to Maester Kinoc. He asked to be notified of all heathen encounters."

Tidus grabbed at the wooden lattice peeks. He called out, "I don't recall a grenade going off!"

The voices were nearly gone. "Kinoc? Nooj isn't going to like this," they ignored him and then all that was left was one final bang of the entrance door, Tidus was alone, locked in an underground jailhouse of fifty or so cells with no one beside him as its prisoner. Who the hell was Nooj?

He shook the door, testing its strength but it barely budged even though he wanted to burst out like Hercules or Rustam. His fingers tightened. Oddly enough, when the creaking echoes of his attempt faded, the first thing that popped into mind in the silence was a boyish curiosity... 'so this is what it was like to be in jail.'

The amazement of his revelation shriveled quickly. He never wanted to figure out that badly. "Oh man."

Tidus shook at the lattice again but in venting anger, placing more of his strength on pulling rather than pushing.

But his second attack at the door resulted and ended with a small twinkling clatter at his feet. His yellow and black shoes shuffled backwards quickly at the sound, and Tidus searched the floor. When he found it, his eyebrows shifted around.

A metal-etching needle of all these things was hidden in a small gap between the sheet metal that covered the walls. It wasn't massive, couldn't have been used for any means of escape, Tidus doubted he could even hold onto it without the possibility of losing it between the creases in his own hand. Why was such a needle doing there in the front place?

He knelt to pick it up in his bare hand and brought it closer to his face. Curiously, he looked up to see where it had fallen, and was greeted with a list of names just barely visibly from the ground to sketchings above the door. Tidus stood slowly, as if he were afraid to snap his back. The names were flamboyantly drawn, and in a font almost rendered unreadable. Tidus had to step even closer to the door to make out the letters, but with squinting and fingering the lightly engraved metal, he read each name.

_Turmack_ – 1yr

_Keyakku – 2mth_

_Churen – 5mths._

_Gippal – 2mth._

Then the biggest name of all at the top of the list, _Cid_ -_ eight years_.

Eight freaking years... Tidus' lips parted. They were all previous prisoners. Tidus stepped back, then took each name to consideration. For all he knew, they were all executed. Tidus backed away from the door, getting sick from the words "eight years." To be stuck in this cell for eight years?

_DB-ONG!... cried heavy bells._

_D-ONG!_

"Hm?" Tidus' brow furrowed at the ghostly noise. He looked up, left, all around his cell, occasionally getting doused by the pipes above his head. "Church bells?"

The first image that popped on his mind was a couple running from the church doors, escaping the rain of throwing rice. Champagne bottles popping, then foaming over the lips of the green bottle. It figured someone was having the time of their lives when he was having his worst. Tidus sighed, stepping backwards until his back hit a hall.

_D-ONG!_

.

**Bevelle Square**

Elsewhere at that same time, Wakka's own head too was raised at the sound.

The Ceylatrul bells were ringing. To Wakka, it might as well be funeral bells. It didn't exactly fit well with an otherwise loud street he faced. Almost all of it reminded him of Luca... save for the police.

At that moment, Wakka sat on the City Hall steps, the very same where Braska had died, and soaked in the sun. His hands were loosely balled up, pressed into his lips and chin in a fist-like prayer. The top of his head was warm from the peacefully hot sunlight. His shoulders were soothingly baking. Sitting in the sun with his hands near his nose and mouth was his equivalent to smoking.

Yuna smiled to him like nothing was wrong, a queer sort of smile that him believe for a moment she was older than him. Lulu proposed he waited outside for Kimahri, pecked his cheek as an apology. They both smiled too easily in his opinion.

Lips, remnants of a smashed smile, pursed into both of his index fingers.

Wakka, the busybody with nothing to do, sighed. Yuna wouldn't finish any time soon, and Kimahri was still no where to be seen. His eyes slowly shut. What he wouldn't give for a swim... His knee bobbed occasionally, beating away the seconds. A foreign thought bubbled to mind, one he actually didn't mind distracting himself with. He wondered which would happen first: Lulu's skin getting a touch darker, or his own getting paler after they married.

Wakka smiled, this time much more genuinely. His eyes danced over the people in the street, chatting and selling away. Then by a stroke of unintentional luck, his ears overheard a conversation completely unhidden for other ears.

"Can you believe it? Another Al Bhed tried to get into Bevelle earlier today."

"Haven't they caused enough pain? Maester Jyscal and Lord Braska... what more do the Al Bhed want?"

His eyes sparked upward. _Al Bhed?_

"Thank goodness they locked him up. Could you imagine if he made it in the city?"

Wakka slowly stood. Remembering his words to Yuna over the last few days, Wakka felt compelled to apologize. He slowly smiled at correct Yuna's intuition. "No kidding…" he whispered. Right in front of him with news he was sure Yuna would want to hear, they were like prophets to him. "S'cuse me, ladies?"

The two gossiping, working class women jumped to attention by the man. The younger, being around Lulu's age, and the other being well into her thirties. They were fisherman's wives, brutally honest, as obvious in their judgmental stares at Wakka's fisherman-like build, even if they smiled politely.

"Sir?"

Wakka finished the distance by jogging. "I couldn't help overhearing. You said that an Al Bhed was arrested today?"

"Oh yes! He nearly took out a whole squad of guards!"

The elder reprimanded and playfully slapped her wrist as her friend smiled, "Don't exaggerate. He was never going to win. Eight guards had him pinned to the street!"

"Even so!"

"Eight?" Wakka harrumphed in disbelief. "You're pulling my leg."

"We aren't. It was the first Al Bhed I've ever seen, and it was terrifying."

"What happened?"

"He tried to enter Bevelle of all things. The guards tried to be reasonable, but he refused to listen. When they tried to restrain him, the Al Bhed hollered like no tomorrow."

A grin slow played on Wakka's chin. "How sure are you ladies that he was an Al Bhed?"

"As sure as Lady Yunalesca was our savior."

"Ha!" He'd kiss one of them if there wasn't a woman already assigned that job. Wakka pumped a fist in the air and shook it in mock anger, "Those scoundrels! Serves 'em right." Cocking his head back, he backpedaled into a slow jog. "Thanks so much for filling me in! I've got to run now!"

He didn't wait long enough to hear them respond, he already bolted as fast as he could go while going backwards.

Wakka turned and ran off toward the northern sea border. Squeezing a folded map out of his pockets, Wakka opened the map to find the prison. It was a rather small paper, but clearly in his map, there was one prison. He tapped at the symbol before stuffing it back in his pocket messily.

"Miss Darrow," he called Yuna purposefully, "you owe me one."

He had to run clear across the city just to get there, but really, Wakka wondered if the man was Brother or some other Al Bhed he knew. Almost immediately, his mind crossed Brother out, knowing the monkey couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. Needless to say, Wakka was growing curiouser and curiouser.

.

**Prison -**

The man behind the desk stared at his signature on the visitor sign-ins, but his skepticism was dripping through the nose. He picked the paper close to his face and scoffed. "Your name's Red Raijin?"

Wakka grinned brightly, his fists planted on the side of his hips. "What, you got a problem with my name?"

He sneered cockily, "You got an ID to back that up?"

Wakka pat the top of his thighs and torso to demonstrate his lack of pockets.

He set the papers down finely, "...fine. Not like I give two shits about it." He clicked his tongue to earn the attention of the other attendant. "Take 'em to the cell block the monkey's in and open the door for ginger here."

Wakka mockingly gaped. "Ginger!" but immediately following he grinned.

It was an awkward march to the facilities. The man who he was following didn't dare show his face to Wakka once, or even speak. He simply made his way down the steps with the stiffest shoulders Wakka had ever seen. Well into five minutes, the man had finally chosen a steel door to grab his keys for.

"Finally!" Wakka chuckled, but the closer Wakka got to the gate he was struggling to open, the louder a faint noise grew.

Thump.

Thump.

Wakka's brow furrowed. He was about to ask what it was but then the guard finally unlatched the gate and swung it open. Then he realized that the poor guy's nose was 'painted red.' Wakka's lips drew tightly together as if to whistle at the shiner.

.

Thump.

Thump.

Tidus smacked the back of his head against the red iron wall repeatedly.

Thump.

It wasn't until Tidus heard the unfastening of a padlock, did he stop his own head-banging against the wall.

"He's in the _d'ast_ cell," Tidus heard the jail keeper tell someone.

He tilted his head to the side, trying out figure out if he was talking to a person he knew when the thickest accent echoed through the iron corridor. "Yo, man, what happened to your nose?"

Tidus edged out of his position slightly enough just to place his hand near his folded knee. The dripping of the water pipes snubbed out anything said between the two men far out of his eyesight. The lack of clacking of oncoming footsteps was enough to clue in it wasn't one of those armored knights or the soldiers with their combat boots.

"Who's there?" Tidus asked, getting curious. The islander was close.

"Hm?" he sounded genuinely interested. "You talk, huh? You sure don't sound Al Bhed," he chuckled.

Tidus glared at the bars, waiting for the man to finally approach. "…What's it to you?"

"A lot, actually," Wakka voiced happily.

Just as he came into view of Tidus' cell, Wakka leaned over to glance in. However, Tidus was so deep into the corner, Wakka could barely make out any features other than his blond hair.

Wakka's arms folded across a barrel chest.

"I came all the over down here just to see if it was true – an Al Bhed being arrested and all." He jabbered on, "I might be able to pull some strings and get to release ya. It's gonna take a few hours though. They won't let you through with _just_ me ordering them around."

Tidus had no idea what to make of him. The man had bright, fiery hair, gelled in a faux hawk with a definitive spike streaming upward and back like a feather with a bright blue bandanna wrapped around his forehead like a sweatband. He half expected someone like him to be a bully, if not for the fisherman grin. Honestly, Tidus saw much of Jecht in Wakka – each for some reason cavorting pirate-like personas.

"I'm Wakka, islander from Besaid Island!" he thumbed toward his chest and it lightly pressed into the black fabric of his wife-beater.

He wore suspenders that held up yellow and blue parachute-like pants, and around his torso was a yellow wrap-around from his jersey. Just around his neck, a plain brown lace holding an unimpressive, wooden fish pendent.

Tidus narrowed his eyes, but his eyebrows lifted with hope. "You'll... help me out?"

"Sure," Wakka raised his chin hotly, "if you are what they say you are."

"You mean _if_ I'm Al Bhed?" he prodded.

"Gotta. I've got an obligation, ya? Someone's been looking for you guys for a long time now."

"Tcff," Tidus' eyes narrowed grimly, and dropped his hand on the floor. "Looks like you came for nothing."

Wakka cocked his head back at the statement. "Yeah? Why's that?"

Tidus woefully laughed at his own dreaded luck, it almost sounded obnoxious. He was probably better off lying. "I'm _not_ Al Bhed. What are they, terrorists?"

"Terrorists?" Wakka frowned straight off. Tidus joined him, aware of the thickening tension. "No, just… uh," Wakka paused to scratch his chin. "They're desert people, y'know, uh gunners...?" Tidus' eyes widened, but Wakka shouted suddenly, "Well, not _terrorists_. Just… uh, misunderstood?"

Tidus wondered what in the world was going on through the man's head.

"Why, you hit your hit on something?" Wakka shouted, "Hey, you mind getting out of the dark? Lemme see ya. What are you doing in the back of the cage, afraid I might bite?" he laughed. "These muscles are for fiends, y'know."

Tidus stood, and walked over to the bars as though Wakka would suddenly throw a spear through the lattice.

Wakka's grinning eyes suddenly darkened when he got a good look at him. "…Chapp-?" His arms loosened across his chest, but didn't break apart. Right then, Wakka's smile disappeared. The nose, the mouth and build, the man in front of him became a ghost. He cocked his head to the side, inspecting him further. However, the man who was looking at had no where near the sort of eyes his brother had.

"Wakka?" then his voice reaffirmed Wakka into reality. It was nothing like Chappu's.

Wakka smirked in spite of himself. "What's your name?"

But Tidus frowned at Wakka's sudden mood break. "It's Tidus."

Wakka smirked. "You sure don't talk like an Al Bhed, but you certainly look like one. Ha! Even down to your clothes."

He leaned forward and through the gaps, Wakka rested his hand on Tidus' head. "You might wanna consider dying your hair, ya?" Wearing a grimacing smile, he murmured to himself, "Man, Lu's gonna get a kick outta this."

"Lou?"

"Just because I'm _nice_, I'll consider getting you out."

Tidus shot back worriedly, "Some nice guy! You'll consider it?"

If this wasn't Chappu, it was his long last twin. Wakka's lips tightened knowingly with a upward curve, "…you don't have a girlfriend, do you?" With a harsh glare from the boy in the cell, Wakka laughed. "Give me time, ya? I'll figure something out."

.

**The Chamber of the Fayth of the Bevelle Cathedral - the Ceylatrul**

Yuna's form was shrouded by the darkness, occasionally lit by the spotlights of the pyre that sparked around her. Her shins curled underneath her thighs.

The hymn and the distorted prayers, the screeching whine, of the pyreflies were all that could be heard. Filled in a room with pyreflies, they intermingled with her as she steadily breathed in and out. One starry pyrefly flew close to her face.

"Apprentice summoner, you may stand and perform a sending," the head monk said.

Yuna moved to stand.

.

Elsewhere within the temple, Kimahri traveled through the temple's cloister alone.

Warned by the temple priest of Yuna's whereabouts, he solved each trial with little hesitation. In his hands was a single Bevellian sphere. At the last and final door, he slipped the bright purple sphere into the divot, and his ears sharply turned downward at the scratching gears. It sent near chills down his spine how untactful machina were.

Then a familiar deep voice was heard behind him. "I was wondering why the cloisters were done ahead of time."

Kimahri turned to find Wakka sauntering up the bright turquoise stairs.

"To tell ya the truth, I was kinda glad. Puzzles never been a strong point for me," Wakka joked. "It's nice to see you again, Kimahri."

Kimahri's eyes darted over Wakka's frame, aware of the startling change three years have done to his body. Wakka's muscle mass had grown, but he was developing small laughing wrinkles even at the age of twenty-four.

The Ronso nodded briefly, just noticing Wakka's left hand baring a gold band.

As he and Wakka entered the waiting quarters, a familiar female voice greeted them. "Took you long enough."

Kimahri's eyes narrowed to focus. Lulu at twenty-three was a stark contrast to the Lulu he knew years ago. Wardrobe as dark as ever, and skin as pale as the moon, the only true changes in her were the styles of her hair, with one braid, and colored chopsticks stuck in. The rest were left to dangle over her shoulders and bat against her bodice.

The length of hair was cut to only reach her ribs as opposed to the long sweeping braids that used to reach her hips, and she was much more akin to smiling. Kimahri withheld any expressive rise. It was only then he began to anticipate how he would handle Yuna's change since he had last since her.

"Look who I found," Wakka friendly slapped his hand across Kimahri's shoulder blades, which caused Kimahri to sternly lower his chin at the feeling.

Lulu smiled, "We're glad to see you made it in time."

Kimahri deeply exhaled at her statement and. Lulu seemed deftly aware she had put him at ease.

"We were starting to worry," she said. "Yuna's missed you."

Kimahri responded with just a slight nod to acknowledge her statements, but then Wakka walked up to her quietly, purposely, and held onto her hands in front of him when he was within reach. They were practically hip to hip. "How long has it been?"

"Two hours. She should be out any time now. We'll know whether she made it any time now."

"Wow, already?" Wakka frowned. Lulu smiled at his concern. Wakka gripped at her hands slightly, "Y'know she wouldn't fail. Yuna's not..."

She found herself declaring, "Were you hoping she would?"

He lowered his head in answer to avoid eye contact.

From across the room, Kimahri studied their closeness, and quickly cast his stare on Lulu's hand which bore an engagement ring. He frowned in spite of himself. Sluggishly, he looked to the door to the Chamber of the Fayth, where he knew Yuna resided in. He wondered if Lulu and Wakka were aware what their gestures were unintentionally doing to her.

His eyes snapped out of his stare when he faintly recognized Wakka's red hair travel across the room just inside the periphery of his vision.

"Hey," Wakka called out to both of them. "Now that I've got you guys here, there's… something important I got to talk to ya guys about." He meandered to the center of the room and crossed his arms, swinging his legs unnecessarily in a swagger. "Woo, boy..." he started awkwardly, "Where do I start?"

Kimahri frowned but Lulu voiced the concern. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing _big_," he overstressed the word, "but… when I was out in the town, I heard people talk about an Al Bhed getting arrested. 'Cuza Yuna, I met with the guy they locked up there. You wouldn't believe the hell this guy gave the guards when they were detaining him. Eight people had to stop him from moving, and he broke a guy's nose!"

Kimahri's jaw subtly slackened. _Tidus._

"Everyone's in town's scared out there mind, ya? They're all running like chickens thinking there's an invasion coming."

Lulu shut her eyes tiredly. "Yuna isn't going to like this… Let me guess, he was sent by Rikku to look for Yuna?"

"Well, um, no…" Wakka rubbed the back of his head flimsily.

"Don't tell me it was a revolt."

"That's the thing... He's not really-" he tried to explain but the sudden grab at his shoulder stopped him altogether. Kimahri's massive hand gently pulled at him. "Eh? What's up?"

Kimahri spoke. Saying something that Wakka never expected to hear..

Wakka's jaw drop ever so gently.

"What? No way! You KNOW him?"

"Lower your voice, Wakka!"

.

From within the Cloister, Yuna's head had lowered just as the pyreflies withered away. A small break of sweat lingered over her brow.

"Congratulations, Summoner Yuna," one of the head monks murmured. "May Yevon be with you."

Yuna nearly let out a breathless sigh.

As all the others filed out of the room, a last man in line had broken formation. Father Zuke had started toward the steps to the uplift where Yuna stood. The disconcerting gaze belied the pride in which he had witnessed. The man's shaved head had wrinkled.

"Be careful daughter of Braska. Those pyreflies..." Zuke paused to display a worrisome frown, "were very drawn to you. More than usual." Yuna didn't immediately react, but merely because she didn't know how to. However, Father Zuke then prayed jubilantly as is his concern never existed, "I wish you luck on your journey, Lady Yuna."

"I appreciate it." A cold bead a sweat fell down the side of her face as she gave him the prayer in return.

They all left through a hallway hidden off in the sides, known only to the clergy. Alone in the room, Yuna basked in what just took place. Her hand rose over her chest, overwhelmed by the euphoria but profound melancholy. She was so tired.

But suddenly, Yuna heard Wakka's voice, a shout muffled through the door. "What! No way!"

The room was she was left in was dark, due to the torches blowing out during her sending. All she could see was give or take a few feet, thanks to the little light streaming through the exit door. Hearing her friend's voices really dissolved the tension, and she even smiled after hearing Lulu scold her fiancée. After a minute, then two, Yuna's hand slipped from her chest then left. She was ready to never see the chamber again.

But had Yuna looked over her shoulder once more to bid the room another farewell, she would've noticed Bahamut's fayth watching over her leaving figure. He smiled and his body faded like a dimming star.

"Don't cry."

Yuna touched the door, beckoning the locks and gears to open, not having heard the boy's voice but someone else had. Even if she had, by the time she turned around, she would be greeted with nothing but a dark room.

.

Tidus' head knocked over to the floor, almost snoring. He mumbled in his sleep.

_The ground rumbled frantically, and Tidus flit his attention to the shaking earth beneath his board. The rocks that were once at rest were now sliding down the mountainside. "SrrG!" something snarled. Tidus jerked around just in time to see a fiend leap from the platform below to gnaw at his hover board._

_"Holy-!" he shouted, compulsively ascending a couple feet up in the air. Dozens of fiends were already clawing at him, jumping to his ankles like raptors. _-Ch. 1 Divided

"Don't cry."

Tidus' eyes slowly opened. He looked around his cell, finding nothing had changed. Recalling his dream, he figured it was just his imagination. He looked up at the ceiling listlessly, amazed at the rush of blood in his chest. It felt wonderful to finally feel warm. His heart fluttered.

He never thought a nightmare would leave him feeling euphoric.

It wasn't until a drip of water hit a few inches from his shin, did he remember there was more to the dream. He dreamt a bright sun and a wet, cold feminine nose brushing against his chest.

As he laid there in his cell, Tidus moved his hand to the center of his torso. He was admittedly embarrassed at his own dream, having never held anyone in such a way before.

Then again, in the dream - Yuna's nose wasn't there by choice, but nuzzled in anyway and then he felt her forehead pressing into his collarbone. Feathery hair, albeit slightly damp tickled his throat.

Tidus' fluttering heart rolled then, rolled into a loose ball, almost like a warm snowball. His expressions were otherwise unchanged as he stared up at the ceiling, unaffected by his own dream.

His lips made several movements, confused as to whether to lower or lift its corners. He lost himself however, when he recalled how a piece of her bangs drooped over the forehead while they held onto each other. She looked scared, cold.

Beautiful. His fingers that lay over his chest curled over his skin.

Tidus then laughed an accusatory, belittling laugh. The very first girl he met in Spira, and he already had a dream about her. How pathetic.

Nonetheless, Tidus smiled.

.

Meanwhile, back at the temple, Yuna's face was lit. Kimahri hadn't changed a bit. Her faithful Ronso guardian, someone she hadn't seen in a few years, waited at the foot of the stairs, his face clean of any real form of expression as it always was.

"Kimahri," she smiled. Kimahri's eyes softened, and that was it to his expressions. Kimahri definitely hadn't changed.

Wakka folded his arms, glad Yuna was in one piece. "Hehe! You look exhausted. Well! How'd it go?"

Yuna smirked but then modestly bowed her head, not quite ready to speak the words of the accomplishment. Zuke's prior warning still worried her.

Wakka understood, but only because Lulu breathed a heavy exhale. He grinned in spite of himself. "You know, you... feel different."

Lulu interjected, "You were in there for seven hours," a fact which Yuna immediately frowned upon hearing. "How are you feeling?"

Yuna shook her head. It was yet another thing she didn't want to put to words.

"What was it like?" Wakka asked.

"It wasn't... as difficult as I thought it was going to be," Yuna said, perplexed herself, "but, I don't want to do another sending in a long time."

"We hope so, too." Lulu commented, "But your father would be proud."

Kimahri held out his paw for Yuna to take to assist her down the stairs, which she took graciously. Wakka stepped forward and his arms were crossed tightly together.

"Hey…Yuna?" Wakka started. Yuna's feet finally touched down to the floor, freeing her hand from Kimahri's. Suddenly, he nervously grinned, ""We've got… _a lot_ to tell you."

Yuna's eyebrows had risen. "What is it?"

The story that followed was one that all of them could never have imagined hearing. Kimahri's story was much more enthralling than Wakka's. What detail struck a chord with to all them, but most of all Yuna, was hearing that this mysterious stranger had called out Sir Auron _by name_. Spira had its first visitor from Zanarkand and he was in jail.

Still in the temple, Yuna sat at the bottom stair step with her hands lying bare on her lap.

Lulu had studied her every move the second Kimahri had told them where he thought this man came from. As expected, Yuna was cemented, unmoving in everything but her eyes. Instead of the predicted pensive stare to the floor, Lulu had found Yuna's eyes actively scanning over the various things in the room in plain unrest. Lulu couldn't help but wonder.

The gang soaked in the information in silence, though the hymn filled the void. Kimahri perched his arms across his chest, waiting for the slow responses from his comrades.

Wakka spoke in a hazardous low voice, "How sure are you he's from Zanarkand?"

Kimahri narrowed his gaze.

"Wakka, you said you met him?" Lulu asked, mostly for Yuna's benefit as she was refused to participate yet. "Was there anything off about him?"

"Off? No, not like that..." Wakka itched an invisible mosquito bite at the base of his neck. "Sure, he was _different_... He didn't know who the Al Bhed were, but I thought he took too many hits in the head, ya? But if this is the same guy, he looks pretty normal to me, he could pass for Al Bhed, half even. Tff! Figures our guy has blond hair of all things," Wakka joked. "Geez. He sure must be having a grand time in Spira."

"We'll free him, but I think," Lulu looked to Yuna, "we should leave him behind… eventually."

Kimahri didn't react. He didn't even try to remind her of his orders from Maester Kelk to keep the boy with him. The most he did was occasionally swing his tail.

"Leave 'em behind? Here? In _Bevelle_?"

"Not Bevelle," Lulu corrected herself, "Luca… or Besaid will do. Bevelle would eat him alive, but the longer he stays with us, the more he puts us at risk."

Disappointment tainted his voice. "I guess we've got no choice, huh?"

Lulu's looked to him, her eyes glazed in concern but most of all contempt, trying to decode why Wakka was so invested in helping him. Her former bitterness had quelled over the years, especially with her time with him as a lover, but the whole situation pinched her insides for some reason.

"Wakka," she said in a startlingly quiet but demanding voice, "why do you care so much?"

"What? What d'ya mean?" Wakka was taken aback, truly thinking he hadn't really done anything to demonstrate that much. "I don't. To tell ya the truth, I feel bad for him."

She wasn't convinced but didn't pursue the argument further.

Wakka's brows knitted together and looked to Yuna expectantly for some answer, an order, some voice of reason, or for her to defend one of them but she wasn't budging. Yuna was in her own world. He pursed his lips. They were all aware Yuna was listening intently, even if she remained still.

Lulu decided to re-introduce the fallacies. "Yuna's life is at danger right now even without his interference. Could you imagine what would happen if someone were to discover where he came from, with the Maesters, or the media?"

Wakka became tight-lipped.

Lulu looked to Yuna in a way of consulting her, "He's better off left in a small town or possibly in Bikanel with Cid. He's safer there than anywhere else in Spira."

"You're probably right..." Wakka shrugged, "Kimahri?"

Kimahri's yellow eyes darted away to Yuna's figure when he gave a curt, uninterested nod. Frankly, Kimahri's mind had already wandered far from the conversation at hand.

"Let's not settle anything till Bikanel," Wakka concluded. "I wanna get the hell outta here without Bevelle breathing down our backs. I better go down to the jailhouse and let him out before he becomes institutionalized."

Yuna's voice was finally heard, "I'll go too," causing each of her friends to jerk upright. "You'll need me to free him. They won't believe you're a guardian without me there."

Wakka mistook her tone for being purely professional. "I'm sure I can handle it."

Yuna shook her head, but then started to smile. "Kimahri..." Yuna looked at her hands. "The man you saved... the man from Zanarkand…?" Kimahri's tail swung to the right. The brush-like tip raised in the air with a curl. He was met with an incomprehensible find. Yuna was in a daze, and Wakka didn't like this at all. "And Wakka, the man you saw in jail… they're the same person, right?"

He answered quizzically, "According to Kimahri... yeeaahh?"

"Was his name Tidus?" Yuna asked out-of-the-blue, finishing with brimming confidence.

Kimahri's didn't answer with nothing but a tilt of his chin and Wakka cocked his head back suddenly. "How do you know that?"

Her dazed smile grew. Evident by her voice, Yuna had a hard time believing it herself. "I... think I met him already."

Lulu couldn't frown anymore if she tried.

.

**Prison**

"Hey, crook."

Tidus turned to face the bars. "Wakka?"

"Wassup?" he voiced brightly, too brightly for a prison. "How's hard time treating you?"

Tidus rolled out of his laying position and sat up. "No way! I thought you'd never come back."

"Come on, get up! We're busting you out."

Tidus grinned but still didn't make a move to stand. "You serious?"

"Yeah, you sound surprised!"

"How?"

Wakka harrumphed, and haughtily folded his arms with a childish smirk, "You didn't tell me you were popular." Immediately after saying this however, Wakka's eyes darted back to the door he had walked through once hearing a new set of people on their way. He stepped away from the prison bars, like a servant, not that his smirk ever disappeared.

"Popular?" Tidus repeated dumbly then looked at the wall questioningly. "I'm not-" Tidus, deflated from his pride, frowned to himself... not in Spira anyway.

"I wouldn't say that," a third voice said.

His turned ears perked. Tidus instantly looked to the source to see Yuna kneeling, looking into the cell. A girl Tidus was sure he would never see again was right by his side without so much as a warning. Without his noticing, his heart missed a beat.

"Yuna?"

Yuna did what was the most natural to her at the time when she heard him say her name. She smiled.

.

_Cid - 8 years_

_Turmack_ – 1yr

_Keyakku – 2mth_

_Churen – 5mths._

_Gippal – 2mth._

_**Tidus - **7 hours  
_

_However, as they released him from the prison, he didn't know that something was going to back to haunt him - something that he did just a few minutes before leaving. Tidus had unwittingly signed a list of other Al Bhed who were locked up with false arrests._

.

**End Chapter 5**

**.**


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